#hand on face to turn away from me. kiss her cheek. make her face me again. 'can i kiss you..................... (SCARED AND SHY)'

[scoupsakakitty]

Please Don‘t Leave Me | idol!Mingyu x Reader | angst

The sound of the rain pelting against the windows filled the silent apartment, each drop echoing the turmoil in y/n’s heart. Her hands trembled as she shoved another piece of clothing into her suitcase, her vision blurred by unshed tears.

"Don’t leave me. Please. I’m begging you y/n." Mingyu’s voice cracked as he stood behind her, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His eyes, glossy with desperation, fixated on her every movement as if he could will her to stop.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the pain in his voice. "Mingyu, I can’t… I can’t do this anymore." Her voice cracked, the weight of her words sinking in as soon as they left her lips. "I love you, but this… this isn’t a life. It’s a secret. A painful, exhausting secret."

"Then let’s change it. Let’s fix it. Just—just don’t go." He reached out, grabbing her wrist as she tried to zip up the suitcase. His hand was warm, shaking. “I’ll talk to the company. I swear, y/n, I will. I’ll make it public. I’ll—”

“You think it’s just about that?” She pulled away, stepping back as her heart shattered at the sight of his tear-streaked face. “It’s not just about hiding, Mingyu. It’s the sasaengs, the threats, the way they call me, show up at my university. The way I can’t even breathe without feeling like I’m being watched.”

His grip on her wrist tightened, his tears falling freely now. “I know it’s hard, I know it’s unfair, but please—don’t walk away from us.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You don’t understand, do you? It kills me when I have to pretend I don’t know you in public. When we’re at a restaurant and the second a fan walks in, I have to act like you’re a stranger. When we walk down the street and I can’t even hold your hand, when I have to watch you suffer alone because if I even look at you too long, someone will notice."

Her lips quivered, her entire body trembling. "I can't even go out without wearing a cap, a mask, sunglasses—always looking over my shoulder, always afraid someone will recognize me as the girl who’s been seen too close to Kim Mingyu. I can't even call you when I need you because you're always gone. Always busy. Always traveling. I understand that it’s your dream, and I never wanted to take that from you. But what about me, Mingyu? What about my life?"

Mingyu ran a hand through his damp hair, his chest heaving. "I never wanted this to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like this."

She turned away from him, trying to steady herself. "I know that. But knowing it doesn’t make it hurt any less."

The rain outside grew stronger, wind howling through the city, but inside, the only sound was Mingyu’s broken sobs.

He fell to his knees in front of her, grabbing her hands and pressing them against his chest. His heart was racing, pounding beneath her touch. “Feel that?” His voice was hoarse, his eyes searching hers frantically. “This beats for you. It always has, and it always will.”

Her tears finally fell, hot and relentless. “Mingyu…”

“I will do anything,” he whispered, his grip tightening as if he could physically stop her from slipping away. “I’ll leave the industry if I have to. I’ll disappear from the spotlight. I just need you, y/n. I can’t—” his breath hitched, a strangled sob escaping, “I can’t be without you.”

She was crying too hard to respond. Her chest ached with every breath, her entire body screaming at her to stay, to believe his words, to hold onto him like he was holding onto her.

But the exhaustion weighed too heavy.

She reached out, cupping his face, her fingers brushing against his tear-streaked cheeks. "You’ll be okay," she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if she was saying it for him or herself.

Mingyu shook his head violently, pressing a desperate kiss against her palm. "No, I won’t. Not without you."

She inhaled shakily, forcing herself to take a step back. Then another. And another.

As she reached the door, her hand barely touching the handle, she heard him move. Fast. Within seconds, he was behind her, his presence overwhelming. With one swift motion, he pushed the door closed, his palm flat against the wood as he trapped her between him and the exit.

"Please don’t leave me," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, shaking with emotion. "You are the only person who treats me well and brings me genuine happiness. You're breaking my heart right now. Be mean to me, treat me like shit—I don’t care, as long as you stay with me. I'll lose myself if you leave me. I love you more than anything. Please, y/n I need you."

His forehead pressed against her shoulder, his sobs racking through his body. He was holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart breaking for the both of them. Slowly, she turned to face him, her fingers ghosting over his trembling ones.

"I love you, Mingyu," she whispered, watching as a flicker of hope flashed through his devastated expression. "But I already lost myself. I'm not happy, please try to understand me. I need to find myself to keep loving you. See it as a break, not a break-up. Give me time."

His lips parted, his breath shaky. “No please, y/n…”

She cupped his cheek one last time, her thumb wiping away a tear that immediately got replaced by another. Then, with every ounce of strength she had left, she turned, opened the door, and stepped into the night.

The last thing she heard before the door fell shut behind her was a broken, shattered "I love you" and the sound of Mingyu crying, his sobs blending into the relentless storm outside.

And just like that, she was gone.

[loramystii]

dark abby fucking Ellie’s sweet girlfriend PLEASE

ᴅᴀʀᴋ!ᴀʙʙʏ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ x ᴇʟʟɪᴇ'ꜱ ɢꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ᴀʙʙʏ ɪꜱ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀꜱ. ʏᴇᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪʟʟ, ꜱʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ᴀ ʜᴀʀꜱʜ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ

— ᴄᴡ; ᴅᴜʙ ᴄᴏɴ (?), ꜱᴛʀᴀᴘ ᴜꜱᴀɢᴇ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ʙᴏɴᴅꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʏɪɴɢ, ᴠᴏʏᴇᴜʀɪꜱᴍ

Ellie knew something was up since the moment she stepped foot into her house. The unusual silence as she took off her shoes and then the slight whimpers once she started walking down the hallway. Ellie's brow cocked, making her way to the bedroom where she was meet with stifled moans and shushing. Ellie twisted the door knob, your figure ass up, face down, hands tied behind your back and forced into an arch by Abby's hand.

Ellie shook in anger, staring at the same woman who ruined her life about to ravish her girlfriend. Your eyebrows were knit together, look so sweet, Ellie had the urge to save you. Cause it had to be forced, right? She tried to step closer to Abby, yet when Abby's gun pressed harshly against the back of your head, Ellie froze. You whimpered, "Abs'!" You complain, as if this wasn't what you agreed to, fear trembling through you. "Stay where you are, and I won't hurt her. Got it?" Abby demands, watching Ellie shift on her feet, itching to get you yet stays in place.

Abby keeps your wrists in place, digging her hand now into your hair, releasing the gun. She tugs, groaning at your little whimpers. Her strap was buried to the hilt inside you, her pelvis against your ass. "Let me— fuck– tell you how I got your pretty girlfriend to let me fuck her." Abby says, thrusting slowly in and out. You were a babbling, incoherent mess beneath her. Practically a dumb toy, allowing Abby to pull your hair and fuck your velvety cunt. Abby smacked your ass, already a bunch of red marks from before Ellie got home. "Told her a whole fuckin' sob story, and this sweet lil' girl let me pin her down in no time." Her pace quickens, fucking you stupid as Ellie watched.

Ellie practically growls, vision narrows at the scene. "Get your hands off her, Abby." She speaks yet it falls on deaf ears, Abby's grip on your hair becoming tighter to lift you up and rub lazy circles into your clit. Abby chuckled at Ellie desperately wanting to look away but too afraid that even in a split second you'd be harmed. "Stop fuckin' actin' like I forced her, she stripped for me, sucked my strap for me," Abby let go of your hair, face planting into the bed, your drool gathering on the sheets. "Always gettin' everything, even a sweet girl with a tight and willing cunt." Abby complained, cooing into your ear as she fucked you with an overwhelming force.

"Fuckkk— fuck fuck–" You babbled, eyes rolling to the back of your head, hardly able to make eye contact with Ellie. Abby grabbed your nape this time, hand circling your throat and pressing against your airway firmly. She lifted you by your neck, hardly breathing as she spoke right into your flushed cheeks. "Too bad she's a damn slut, huh?" Abby degraded, slapping you harshly against your cheek, hips still pistoning against yours. "Huh?" Abby emphasized once again, spitting on your red cheek this time. "Did you know how fucking greedy she was, Williams?" Abby asked, her lips parted, kissing down your exposed neck, still not allowing you to breathe.

"She jus' felt so bad for me, guess i'm pretty damn persuasive." Your lack of senses was overstimulating, hands tied along with your eyes blurry from tears. Ellie didn't respond, just watching how you moaned in response to every little movement. Your face was turning pale, hardly any oxygen in your system. "Stop doing that! Let her go—" Abby released your neck, allowing you to collapse again. "Cu— cumming-" Abby tugged your hair, movements away from giving you whiplash. Your orgasm crashed over you, eyebrows furrowed and squinting through your peripheral to see Abby's pulling her strap out of you with a filthy noise, your sopping cunt clenching around nothing.

Abby got up, unbuckling her harness and laying it ontop of your back. Watching you pant, the silicone tip painting your back muscles with your own cum, Abby wipes sweat off her forehead. "Sweet girl, bet Ellie neglects you huh?" She swipes drool off your chin. "Doesn't treat you as nasty as you deserve to be treated." You don't respond, simply murmuring and wiggling your ass. She grabbed her gun, shoving it into Ellie's chest. Ellie panicked slightly, eyes wide, resentment coursing through her veins. "Fuck her, or kill her. Either way works." She whispered before leaving.

The mess you were left in was picturesque. Her spit, your drool, your tears. Hands tied behind your back. Cum running down your back and lovely red mark on your cheek!

[specialgradefckr]

nerd!gojo is so cute! please give him a kiss on the cheek for me.

you stare at the note you found in your locker. it's written in glittery purple ink, which only adds to the insult.

gojo, "cute"??? give him a kiss on the cheek???

like an ill omen summoned by its name, a terrible presence looms over your shoulder, "watcha got there?"

"hate mail." you say dispassionately as you quickly shove gojo away.

when you face him, you see gojo's face change - smooth features and rounded eyes hardening into anger.

"hate mail?" gojo frowns, "in your locker? who would send that?!"

"you want a list?" comes geto's snarky voice. "she's kind of a bitch."

you shoot him a glare, but gojo speaks before you can.

"don't talk about her like that."

the room feels a little bit colder. since when did gojo sound so... mean?

"i'm just saying," geto says, shrugging, "you'd know better than anyone, she's always on your ass."

"yeah, my ass," gojo turns to you, a pout on his face, "you're not bullying other people, are you? i don't have any other bullies."

only satoru gojo could get into an argument this stupid.

"no," you drone, "your drain on my time and attention is uncontested."

rather than being ashamed of this, gojo looks absolutely tickled.

even when you punch him in the shoulder, his good mood is undampened.

"nerd," you grouse, stalking off to your next class, which gojo naturally follows.

it sucked being in the same classes as him, but at least it meant you could get his help. he really is a huge nerd. all those hours you put into it, and he seems to understand everything effortlessly.

the class feels like it takes hours. you pay diligent attention, take so many notes, and somehow, gojo comes out of it completely chipper.

you're left in peace for a few blessed minutes afterwards as he bolts out of the room for some reason or another.

is he finally starting to fear you as his bully? took him long enough -

"here!" pressed into your hands, your favorite snack from the campus vending machine.

gojo smiles at you, that big, boyish smile that makes him look extra stupid. "sorry i messed up last time."

you don't know what comes over you. maybe it's pure delirium brought on by hunger. or the joy from having something nice to eat.

maybe it's a new form of torture, humiliating him by making him endure a kiss from his bully.

it's just a kiss on the cheek. it's whatever.

he stands there, still, face completely red, blue eyes wide in shock. gojo looks even dumber than usual, which shouldn't even be possible.

you fan your face for a moment as you turn to leave.

"come on, you idiot. we've got a test to study for."

gojo whistles some unbelievably stupid tune, practically skipping the whole way to the library.

"i can't believe it! she kissed me on the cheek!!! a real kiss!" "uh-huh." "don't uh-huh me, suguru, it was REAL! anyways, it all makes sense now. she was just hangry. no wonder she shoved me into a locker. it's my fault for not taking better care of her..." "would you listen to me if i reminded you that you're not dating and this is all pure delusion?" "not dating yet." "so a no, then," suguru says, rolling his eyes as he returns to his work. satoru's already finished with the homework and scrolling through his text message history with you, no doubt spamming you again with memes or pictures or just remarks. but you haven't blocked him yet, have you? suguru smiles to himself, closing his notebook, tucking away a shimmering violet pen.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

A Morning In Berlin.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist !!

authors note - this is a sister chapter to this, you don’t necessarily need to read it 🩵

word count - 2k

in which, harry and madison are in berlin, whilst your back at home in the uk working, madison’s almost turning three in april, and harry wants to spend as much time with his two year old as possible.

The café hummed with the soft clatter of cups and quiet morning conversations, a welcome warmth against the crisp air outside.

Harry stood in line, his almost three-year-old daughter, Madison, nestled securely in his arms. Her small fingers played absentmindedly with the buttons on his coat as she rested her head against his chest, her curls still slightly tousled from the stroller ride.

He had already parked the stroller at a quiet corner table, making sure everything was set before stepping into the queue. Madison was getting tired, as her morning nap was soon approaching — her tiny yawns and slow blinks proof that the morning had been an adventure already.

The barista, a friendly-looking woman with a warm smile, greeted them cheerfully.

"Good morning," Harry said, offering a dimpled grin. "Could I get a black coffee, please?"

Before the barista could respond, Madison stirred in his arms, lifting her head slightly. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes with her fist before peering up at the woman behind the counter.

“Wan… warm miiilk, peas,” she mumbled, her voice soft and dreamy.

The barista’s face melted into a gentle smile. "One warm milk? Of course!"

Harry pressed a kiss to Madison’s curls, swaying her slightly in his arms. "That sounds like a perfect choice, bug."

Madison hummed in agreement, already resting her head back against his shoulder, her little fingers now curling into the fabric of his sweater.

As the barista rang up their order, Harry chuckled softly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his daughter’s breathing against him.

“Think you might be falling back asleep on me,Maddie-Moo’s,” he murmured.

Madison barely responded, just letting out a tiny sigh, perfectly content in her daddy’s arms.

Harry carried Madison over to their table. He carefully sat down, adjusting her in his lap so she was snug against him. Her tiny hands gripped onto his sweater, her head resting against his chest as she nursed her warm milk from the small cup the barista had given her.

Harry smiled to himself, brushing a few stray curls away from her face. He could tell she was getting sleepier by the second—her long lashes fluttered lazily, her little body melting further into his.

“Getting sleepy, bug?” he murmured, rubbing her back gently.

Madison gave a tiny nod, letting out a soft hum as she sipped her milk.

Harry glanced down at his phone on the table and, with one hand, tapped the screen to call you. The familiar ringing tone buzzed in his ear for a few moments before the screen lit up with your face.

“Hey, love,” Harry greeted warmly, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You appeared slightly out of breath, your hair still damp from your workout, dressed in your gym leggings and an oversized hoodie.

“Hey, you,” you replied, shifting the phone in your hand as you locked the front door behind you. “How’s my little munchkin?”

At the sound of your voice, Madison stirred, lifting her head slightly to peek at the screen. Her face was still sleepy, her cheeks rosy from the warmth of the café.

“Mamaaa…” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fist.

You cooed, pressing your phone closer. “Oh, baby, you look so sleepy. Have you been having fun with Daddy?”

Madison blinked slowly, nodding as she leaned back against Harry.

“Had…. warm miiilk,” she said, her voice soft and drowsy.

Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“She’s just about ready to knock out, I think,” he mused, glancing down at her as she settled back into him. “Had a busy morning, haven’t we, Mads?”

Madison hummed in agreement, though her eyes were already drifting shut again.

You smiled, tucking your legs under you as you sat on the couch back home. “She looks so cozy. Wish I was there to cuddle you both. But I’m so glad you get to spend your time with her.”

These traditions were the moments Harry lived for.

Harry shifted slightly in his seat, careful not to disturb Madison as she snuggled deeper into him. Her soft breaths were steady against his chest, her tiny fingers still loosely gripping his sweater.

He glanced back at the phone, his green eyes warm as he smiled at you.

“So, what’s your plan for the rest of the day then, love?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

You sighed, stretching your legs out on the couch.

“Nothing too exciting,” you admitted. “Gotta go food shopping in a bit. We’re running dangerously low on snacks.”

Harry chuckled. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

“Exactly,” you teased. “I’d never hear the end of it from you two if I didn’t restock the biscuits.”

He grinned. “You’re not wrong. We’ve raised Mads to have very high biscuit expectations.”

You laughed before tucking your feet beneath you. “And then after that, I think I’m just gonna curl up on the couch and watch some Netflix.”

Harry tilted his head. “Ooo, what’re you watching?”

“Dunno yet,” you admitted. “Might start something new, or I might just rewatch something comforting.”

Harry smirked. “So basically, you’re gonna watch Friends for the hundredth time?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight back your smile. “Maybe.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Predictable.”

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed. “What about you two? What’s on the agenda after this?”

Harry shifted the phone slightly, glancing down at Madison. “Well, before this one started dozing off, she was very adamant that we go to the toy museum.”

Your eyes lit up. “Oh, she’s gonna love that.”

“Yeah, I figured we’d head over after she wakes up,” Harry said, running a gentle hand over Madison’s back. “She was going on and on about the dolls and the trains. Kept saying, ‘Dada, choo-choo!’ over and over.”

You laughed. “That sounds about right. She’s been obsessed with trains lately.”

“Tell me about it,” Harry grinned. “She spotted one in a shop window earlier and nearly launched herself out of the stroller trying to get to it.”

“Oh god,” you chuckled. “Well, knowing her, she’s gonna try and bring half the museum home with her.”

Harry sighed dramatically. “I know. I can already see the puppy dog eyes she’s gonna give me at the gift shop.”

You smirked. “And you know you’re gonna give in.”

He scoffed. “Hey, I have some willpower.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Because last week, she asked for a teddy at the supermarket, and you told me you ‘just couldn’t say no’ while buying three of them.”

Harry groaned, tilting his head back. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’m weak.”

You laughed. “You definitely are when it comes to her.”

He shook his head with a fond smile, glancing down at Madison, who was still peacefully asleep in his arms. “Yeah… but can you blame me?”

Your heart melted at the sight of them.

“Not at all,” you murmured. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Harry grinned. “She really does, huh?”

You nodded. “And I love watching it.”

He gave you a soft look, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles on Madison’s back. “Well, she’s got both of us wrapped around her little finger.”

“Completely,” you agreed with a smile.

For a moment, you both just sat there, miles apart but completely connected. The love you shared, for each other and for your little girl, filled every space between you.

“Alright, love,” Harry murmured after a beat. “I’ll let you get on with your day. We’ll FaceTime again later, yeah?”

You nodded. “Definitely. Give Mads a kiss from me when she wakes up.”

“Already planning on it,” he said, his voice warm. “Love you, darling.”

“Love you too.”

After finishing his coffee, Harry carefully adjusted Madison in his arms before gently easing her into her stroller.

She stirred slightly but remained in a peaceful sleep, her tiny hands curled up by her face. Making sure she was snug, he pulled the blanket over her legs, tucking her in just right.

With one last glance to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, Harry pushed open the café door and stepped out onto the crisp Berlin streets.

The city bustled with its usual morning energy—cyclists weaving through traffic, locals sipping their coffees outside tiny bakeries, and tourists snapping photos of the historic architecture.

Harry strolled along the pavement, taking his time as he pushed Madison’s stroller. He popped into a couple of small shops along the way, picking up a little toy train he knew she’d love and a book for himself.

The morning air was refreshing, and despite the gentle hum of city life around him, it felt peaceful—just him and his little girl, exploring together.

But as he turned onto a quieter street, a voice called out from behind him.

“Harry? Oh my God, it is you!”

He glanced up to see a young woman approaching, her phone already clutched in her hand.

“Hiya,” he greeted politely, offering a small smile as he continued walking.

“Would you mind taking a quick photo?” she asked, stepping closer.

Harry sighed softly, his tone kind but firm. “I appreciate it, love, but I’m just out with my daughter right now.”

He gestured slightly toward the stroller, making it clear he wasn’t in a position to stop.

The fan’s eyes flickered toward Madison before she pouted slightly. “Oh, please? Just one? I won’t be long, promise.”

Harry shook his head gently. “I’m really sorry, but I just wanna have a quiet morning with her.”

The fan huffed, clearly disappointed, but instead of backing off, she kept pace beside him. “I won’t tell anyone where you are, I swear. Just real quick?”

Harry exhaled through his nose, still keeping his voice steady. “I appreciate that, but no, not today.”

The fan groaned, frustration creeping into her tone. “It’s just one picture, though! I came all the way over here—”

A soft whimper cut through the air, making Harry immediately look down at the stroller. Madison shifted, her little face scrunching up as she let out a sleepy whine.

The noise, the persistent voice, the shift in atmosphere—it had disturbed her.

Harry’s brows knitted together as he crouched down, instantly switching his focus to his daughter.

“S’alright, baby,” he murmured, adjusting the blanket and rubbing her tummy gently. “Go back to sleep, love.”

Madison made another tiny noise before sucking on her thumb, her lashes fluttering as she tried to settle again.

Harry looked up, his expression now firmer as he turned back to the fan. “Look, I really need you to respect this. She’s just woken up because of all this, and that’s not fair on her.”

The fan’s face paled slightly, guilt flashing across her features. She bit her lip, glancing between Harry and Madison. “I—I didn’t mean to wake her, I just—”

Harry sighed, standing back up as he kept one hand on the stroller. “I get it, I do. But I’m asking you to please just let us be.”

The fan hesitated before finally nodding. “Okay… sorry.”

Harry gave a small nod, his jaw still tight. “Thanks.”

Without another word, he adjusted the stroller’s canopy slightly to block out some of the daylight and began walking again, keeping his steps slow and steady to soothe Madison back into sleep.

As he put distance between himself and the fan, he glanced down at his daughter, his expression softening instantly.

“Shh, it’s okay, bug,” he murmured, rubbing her little knee through the blanket. “Daddy’s got you.”

And with that, he kept walking, determined to make the rest of their morning as peaceful as possible.

[lazysoulwriter]

My Man, My Rules - Rafe Cameron

There was a fight. Of course, there was a fight.

Because Rafe Cameron couldn’t go one week without being knee-deep in some rich-kid drama.

And as usual, it all started with some guy looking at him the wrong way. Or maybe breathing too close. Or—God forbid—standing within a five-foot radius of her.

So now, here he was, blood dripping from his nose, shirt torn at the collar, grinning like he just won a championship fight, while his friends stood around awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.

She, on the other hand, was livid.

“Oh, great. Just fucking great,” she started, storming up to him. “Again, Rafe? You really have one brain cell, and you let Topper borrow it for the night, huh?”

“Baby—”

“No.” She raised a finger, effectively shutting him up. “I swear to God, Cameron, if you get into one more fight, I will personally beat your ass myself.��

The entire party went silent.

Kelce let out a low whistle. Topper looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. Even the guy Rafe had just fought—some dude from Chapel Hill who probably just wanted a beer—was staring like he had just witnessed something far more terrifying than Rafe Cameron’s right hook.

Rafe, though? He just looked amused.

“You done?” he asked, licking his busted lip.

She stepped closer, grabbing his face with both hands. “Oh, I am not done. In fact, I’m just getting started. Because you know what, Rafe? You’re mine. My man. And that means I get to decide if you’re allowed to get your dumb ass into fights.”

He blinked. “I’m… not allowed?”

“That’s right,” she snapped. “Not. Allowed. What the fuck do you think this is? Some fight club for trust fund babies? No, sir. We are done with this. From now on, I make the rules. You got a problem with someone? You tell me. You feel like punching someone? You tell me. You wanna get your knuckles bloody? I will find you a punching bag, Rafe Cameron, but it will NOT be at a fucking country club party.”

Rafe looked at her for a long second. Then, he smirked. “Kinda hot when you boss me around like that.”

She groaned, letting go of his face only to smack the back of his head. “Are you hearing me? You are banned from fighting. BANNED.”

“Banned?”

“BANNED.”

“…Like, for life?”

“Oh my fucking God—”

She turned to the crowd, gesturing wildly. “Does ANYONE else want to tell this idiot what I’m saying before I lose my mind?”

Kelce coughed. “I think she means you’re not supposed to fight anymore, bro.”

Rafe scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Kelce—”

She grabbed his chin again, forcing him to look at her. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

His smirk softened just a little. “Yeah, baby. I understand.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you really?”

“I do.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. “I promise.”

She squinted, trying to decide if she believed him. Finally, she sighed and wiped some blood off his cheek with her sleeve. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I am cute,” he agreed. “And strong. And—”

“Do not make me take it back, Cameron.”

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

She sighed dramatically but let him pull her away. “Fine. But if I ever catch you fighting again—”

“I know, I know. You’ll beat my ass.”

“Damn right, I will.”

Rafe smirked, tugging her even closer. “My scary little girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “And don’t you forget it.”

[c0s-lettuce]

seriously - johnny storm x fem!reader

synopsis: you and johnny take advantage of an empty baxter building. but you don't expect sue to catch you in the act.

word count: 998

warnings/tags: a lil bit smutty but nothing too explicit, established relationship, getting caught (almost?)

a/n: i watched the original fantastic four when i was eight and that is all i'm going off on. don't know what compelled me to write this, but here we are :)

Johnny loves sneaking you into the Baxter Building despite there being absolutely no need to. You're practically part of the family. You have a spot at the dinner table, your toothbrush resides in the bathroom, and H.E.R.B.I.E. asks about you when you're gone too long. But Johnny still gets a thrill from the hushed voices and tiptoeing around as if you were some forbidden outsider.

It's winter in New York, and the city is covered in a thin blanket of snow. The building is empty when you and Johnny arrive, except for H.E.R.B.I.E. wandering around the living room. The other three are out doing errands and won't be back for a while.

Recognising the potential of your situation, Johnny takes your hand and leads you to his room. Once inside, he shuts the door and lays you down on his bed. His body immediately covers yours. He pulls the duvet over the both of you, shielding you from the cold as he settles in the space between your legs.

He leans in and begins peppering kisses anywhere he can reach. His hands interlock with yours as he relishes the feeling of you. Your skin feels cool against his. Your soft sighs only fuel his desire. Your body is perfect beneath his. He kisses over your cheeks and along your jaw, paving a path towards your lips.

You turn your face to the side to dodge his kiss. "Johnny, wait."

He pouts as he pulls back slightly. "Wait? For what?"

"I just got here. Don't you want to do something else first?" you ask with an innocent smile. But it's clear you're teasing him.

"No, baby. Want you now," he murmurs, finally capturing your lips with his.

Your stomach tingles as he kisses you languidly. He takes his time to savour your taste, exploring your mouth as if it was the first time he's been given the privilege. He pins you down harder, his body a tantalising presence against yours. You let out the softest moan in response. But he hears you. He feels it throughout his entire body.

He breaks away to trail kisses down your neck again. Releasing your hands, he begins making his way down, moving under the covers. His hands map a path down your arms and over your body. When he reaches your stomach, he lifts your sweatshirt just high enough to kiss the sensitive skin of your belly.

His fingers play at the waistband of your pants, teasing you for just a moment before undoing them. He pulls your pants and underwear down together. You watch your clothes fly out from under the duvet, landing somewhere on the floor.

He settles again between your legs, hooking his arms around your thighs to hold you in place. He trails his lips along the softness of your inner thighs, humming against your skin as he takes in the scent of your arousal. You lift up the covers to get a peek at him.

He meets your gaze, grinning. "Still wanna do something else first?"

"Shut up," you mumble, lowering the covers again.

He chuckles, and you feel his breath against your warmth. Your body burns with anticipation as his lips inch closer and closer.

But just as he's about to reach his destination, the door suddenly opens, and a voice rings through.

"Hey, Johnny. Have you-"

Sue walks in, her eyes immediately landing on you. She makes a face of bewilderment at the sight. Fortunately, you're unexposed, still wearing your sweatshirt and covered by the duvet. However, the suspicious heap on the bed makes the situation obvious.

You stare back wide-eyed, shocked into silence. Johnny clambers up from his spot. He sticks his head out from under the covers, appearing just above your chest.

"Jesus, Sue. Ever heard of knocking?" he chastises her.

Sue raises an eyebrow. "Ever heard of locking the door?"

Johnny huffs in response. "What are you doing back so early?"

"We finished early," she replies. "Did you sort out the package like I asked?"

"Uh… no," he answers.

"I need you to do it now," she says.

"Seriously?" he asks. "I'm kinda in the middle of something."

"Yes, seriously," she insists. "I needed it done this morning."

Johnny groans, turning back to you. "I'm sorry. I gotta go deal with this."

"No worries. I'll wait for you here," you reply.

He maneuvers out from under the covers, careful to keep you hidden. He lovingly lays the duvet over you again and kisses you on your forehead.

Johnny heads towards the door. "Alright, let's go."

Sue nods, before turning to you. "It's good to see you again."

You swear you can see a smirk on her face but decide to respond civilly. "Good to see you too, Sue."

"Go!" Johnny reiterates, ushering his sister out of his room.

Despite the predicament, Johnny's frustration amuses you. Sue finally leaves, and Johnny casts one last glance back at you. He gives you a smile before closing the door.

You let out a sigh as you lie back, now alone in the bedroom. You decide to stay tucked into bed, scrolling on your phone to pass the time. About twenty minutes pass before Johnny returns.

"Hey, baby. Sorry about that," he says, entering the room again. He locks the door this time.

"It's alright," you tell him, putting your phone down. "Is everything good?"

He sits down on the edge of the bed as he looks over you. The sight of you nice and comfy in his bed warms his heart.

"Yeah," he replies. "There's just been a lot to do lately."

You nod. "Any other disturbances I should be aware of?"

He grins. "No. No more disturbances."

He crawls under the covers, positioning himself over you again. He wastes no time to close the distance with a tender kiss. His hands find yours as he presses you against the mattress.

He pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips. "Now, where were we?"

➸

[redwinelew]

SAVE YOUR TEARS | LEWIS HAMILTON

type written fic (one shot)

pairing lewis hamilton x driver!reader

summary you need a distraction and your teammate is the perfect person for that

word count 3.7k

warnings 18+. smut. nsfw. porn with oh so little plot and even little feelings. unprotected sex. rough sex. emotional sex. prone bone then missionary (idk i tried), praise kink. hints of depression, self doubts etc etc idk lmk what i missed. english is not my first language.

author's note self-indulgent if u couldn't tell from the warnings. that's it. sorry.

masterlist

lewis didn't expect you to turn up in front of his hotel room tonight night, face wet with tears staining your cheeks, lips trembling as you held back a sob.

nor was he expecting you to ever utter these words to him.

"i need you to fuck me."

lewis' lips parted, unable to get any words out, too shocked by your sudden request. he has a million different questions appearing in his brain all at once. what the hell is happening? why are you crying? who did this to you? and why on god's green earth did you just ask him to— he couldn't even repeat it to himself. it didn't feel real, didn't even sound like you were asking. pleading, more like it, in pure desperation.

he calls your name softly, like he's trying to wake you up from a dream. his thick eyebrows tie together in confusion. "what are you—"

"please...." you cut him off, the last syllable getting more inaudible as it trails away. tears beginning to fill up your eyes again before they drop, reaching your jaw and fall to the floor.

lewis has never seen you like this, and he's pretty sure nobody else on the grid or the public did either. his teammate whom in his eyes, the one who always got her shit together. he's almost jealous at how composed you always presented yourself to be, on and off track, never letting any unwanted criticisms by fans or media from getting to you, always quick to shut them down cleverly. the last person anybody could ever take down, mentally.

then he realized, that he held you to such a high standard to the point where he had forgotten that you were still just a human. it's only a matter of time before you break and if lewis personally had his moments where he was at his lowest, he couldn't imagine being in your shoes right now.

everything immediately clicked for lewis right there and then. he had never invited a girl inside so fast, never undressed her so quickly.

"what's your safe word?" he asks, needing to know before he proceeds.

"pancake."

lewis nods. he was about to crash his lips against yours when you put your hand on his clothed chest to stop him firmly, almost clenching your hand on his shirt, head turn away slightly.

"no," you refused.

kissing means this would get personal. complicated. and you do not want complications in the future. this is not going to be a love-making session. this is going to be lewis fucking you hard until your eyes roll back and your vision turns white. until the thickness of his cock makes your hollow soul lights up again. until you feel alive from his hand around your throat.

nothing else.

and that's exactly what he's doing right now. no kissing. he immediately understood it from the minute you refused his lips, getting what this is going to be.

lewis' tattooed hand fists on your shirt hard as he avoids your lips and kisses your neck instead, finding those spots that make your knees buckle and focuses particularly on there. you remove his hair tie, and tangle your fingers with his braids. he groans, his hair a particular sensitive part on his body. his thick lips travel lower to lay kisses along your collarbone. no marks either, he doesn't need to be told that.

though for some reason he does not understand, it is suddenly quite hard to resist himself from leaving purple bites on your skin. not when he had someone like you in his arms whom he had found beautiful since the first time his eyes laid in you.

no, lewis tells himself silently. this is not about you. this is about her. she's struggling. there's a demon that she needs to defeat and she needs your help. so help her.

you find yourself walking in reverse as he advances towards you, before your back hits the soft mattress of his hotel bed.

"yes." you say, already breathless, letting him know this is exactly how you want it. no tip-toeing, no hesitation or being overly careful, because you trust him enough to know that he knows what he should and shouldn't do, or you wouldn't have knocked in his door. you might be mentally fragile, but not your body. you need him to get to work quickly, to get you out of the mess that is currently your mind right now. he doesn't need to be gentle, because all you desire is the exact opposite.

lewis does not respond. instead he takes off your shirt and bra, throwing them somewhere on his floor without caring where they land. you do the same with his. lewis climbs over you, leaving neither of you time to admire one another's half naked bodies. nothing to gawk over. this is not what you came here for and lewis was quick to understand that.

his lips were fast to attack your bare chest next. his tongue swirls over your nipple, coating it with his spit before sucking hard, creating sounds as lewd as your moans right now. he also groans silently, the vibration sending more waves of pleasure inside you. he lets you gather his braids to press his face harder on your breast while one of his hands went to grope on the other, flicking your already sensitive nipple before giving it the same attention with his tongue. your back arches, and you find yourself pressing both your thighs together, desperate for relief on your lower half.

he senses it and leaves your chest. he pulls down your pants next, then your panties. you catch the way he visibly swallows at the sight of your dripping pussy, his own cock starting to throb in need.

"tell me what you need," he asks breathlessly, his voice huskier than usual, making your walls clench around nothing.

"your fingers." you answer without hesitation. the rational part of your brain manages to slip through, making you wonder for a split second just what made you so bold tonight, demanding all sort of things you never even had the courage to ask anybody.

maybe it's demons in your head, the one you are desperate to get rid off so you are forcing yourself to do the absolute craziest, just to feel like your old self again.

lewis nods. part of him is still in disbelief over what is currently happening but he tries to leave it at the back of his head. you let him spread your legs with ease and he doesn't waste any time to slide his digit smoothly over your fold to gather your arousal, earning a sharp gasp from you. he spits on your cunt, his saliva mixes with your wetness before he pushes.

still he was careful, only using one finger for now. he's well aware of the thickness of his digits and not sure how much you can take if he immediately adds more.

"m-more." you're whimpering already and the sound goes straight to lewis' dick, forcing him to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm his twitching cock.

but it's difficult. this is lewis hamilton, seven times formula 1 world champion. the greatest of all time. admire by billions. and yet when he has a pretty girl like you underneath him, at his mercy, your beautiful cunt clenching hard around his fingers, suddenly lewis is just a normal man. one who is not sure how much longer he can hold himself from claiming you all for himself.

lewis takes a deep breath. this is not about you, he tells himself again. you need to listen to her. give her what she needs. you can get any girl to come to your hotel room for fucking, and yet she only has you, the only man she clearly feels safe enough to ask of this.

"faster." you ask and lewis starts to deliver, pushing your legs apart even further before his hand picking up its pace, until the only sounds in the room are your ragged moans and the slickness of your cunt.

you are gorgeous. absolutely breathtaking, lewis thinks to himself. the way your face is flushed, sweat staining all over your face and neck. how your figure, hypnotizing as if it was blessed by aphrodite herself writhe underneath him, chasing that high. sinful moans and whimpers from your lips, enchanting his ears, making him curl his fingers until they find that one spot inside that makes you only whine louder, addicted into finding even more ways to earn those sounds from you. your legs part even wider as if not getting enough, silently begging for more than just his fingers.

"fuck...." lewis cannot help but groan. he sees the way your breath is getting shorter, more ragged. following his own impulses, lewis stops, withdrawing his hand from you.

you whine shamelessly at the sudden emptiness. you look up, watching lewis licking your arousal clean from his lips. the sight should be dirty, should make your pussy pulses in lust but instead your brain is protesting, head thrown back on the mattress in frustration. no, no, no, no, the brain says. you were far from reaching your peak since lewis had just started fingering you but you were at bliss at how preoccupied your mind was, having no room to think about anyting but his fingers inside you.

the insecurities starting to come back. the demon has gone back to work, playing in your ears and whispering doubts into you again.

maybe lewis is regretting this. he thinks you're sick in the head and he wants you to leave. he's going to tell the team—

"you're gonna come on my cock only."

oh—

oh.

you don't have time to be dumbfounded when lewis gets off the bed to remove his pants, eyes stay on yours. a hiss leaves his lips as he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his rock hard cock that already leaks with pre-cum while keeping his lustful gaze on you the entire time before he gets back to the bed to you.

your mouth almost waters at the visual. yes, you came to his hotel room, crying, begging him to fuck you. and yet it's unbelievable to see lewis like this. the champion, feared by the rest of the grid, respected by the whole wide world, is currently hard and throbbing in front of you. for you.

your cunt is wet again, pulsing around air thinking about just how he'd fit himself inside you but before you could do anything, he flips you flat onto your stomach. you yelp, caught off-guard by his sudden action. the mattress dips as his knees sink into it on either side of your body. he grabs his pillow before shoving it under your belly.

condom is on and when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance, you gasp silently, already gripping the sheets.

"we can stop if you want." he says, lowering his voice down to a softer tone, giving you a way out. he's willing to ignore the way his dick twitches, begging to be taken care of, if you desire to stop. but instead....

"n-no." you shake your head fast, voice shaky but with a hint of firmness behind it. "no, i don't want to stop. please."

"what do you need then? tell me exactly."

"i don't want to think. please, just— use me. i don't care. don't be gentle. i want it hard. i need it rough."

part of lewis regrets that he asked because holy fucking shit. sweet baby jesus. he doesn't recognize the sound that he makes, deep from his chest, filled with lust after hearing your dirty, desperate request.

on one hand, he's more than happy to fulfill your desire, knowing this is just going to be sex and nothing more. it's easier for the both of you in the future, knowing that this is a one time thing and absolutely no feelings would be involved.

but on the other hand, though lewis presents himself to the public and media as the calm and collected person you'd see on TV, but like every other man, he has his own wants and needs as well. and you have absolutely fucking idea what the hell you had just woken up inside him.

"fuck. fuck, you can't just fucking say that. you're fucking killing me, baby girl."

you moan at the nickname, then the volume becomes louder when you feel him pushing himself inside you slowly, one palm on a side of your head while the other is gripping your hip so fucking hard no doubt it'll bruised tomorrow.

you want it to bruise. and you know what you just asked of him. it's nothing like you had ever asked of a man before. to take you like a ragdoll for him to be used, to be toyed with whenever his please. to use you like you exist only and solely for his pleasure. because the thoughts that you are having about yourself are way worse. you want it to bruise, to hurt. you want to still be able to feel him for days. to have difficulties to walk so you will always be reminded of tonight. because at least your mind will be distracted from wandering to places you have been working so hard to avoid again.

lewis slides in easily but the stretch burns. you whine, fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly as you try to breathe properly in order to relax yourself so you can accommodate to his size, which is bigger than anyone you had ever taken. what he lacks in height, he certainly makes up for it in his length.

when he's fully inside, lewis gathers your hair before yanking it hard, making your neck arches back and you cry out. the pain in your scalp is weirdly delicious, combines with how he's making you feel so full having his dick deep inside, unmoving.

"say thank you." lewis demands, his tone no longer kind amd gentle like before, goosebumps prickle all over your skin. you never heard him using that kind of tone during work, never even imagine that he'd be the type to sound like that in bed. "thank me for fucking you."

"t-thank you."

"louder." he bottoms out before slamming into you hard, pulling a loud gasp from you.

"thank you!" you choke out.

lewis starts out slow at first, looking for the right pace. he remembers how you want it but he's not going to give it right away, out of care and of course pettiness.

but as he continues, he couldn't help but craving to hear more of those sweet bits of noises that you keep making. to hear the way your breath hitches at how he's filling you up to the brim, at how good he's fucking you.

lewis lowers his body, caging your body from behind but still careful not to crush you completely with his weight as his pace increases, ramming his cock inside you, his restraint getting thinner.

"take it. you want me to fuck you so bad? fucking take it. you asked for this." he grunts, and you whimper with no shame left in you. it's difficult to care, not when you could feel yourself getting dumber on his dick, which is exactly what you were asking for. and all this couldn't be more perfect.

lewis' movements grow harder, rougher by the minute. your moans mixed with his and the sound of his hips snapping against your ass echoes to the entire room. you wish you could be quiet, knowing that this whole hotel is rented by your entire team. but the way lewis is fucking you is making you do the exact opposite. you know he wouldn't want you to be quiet either, the mechanics be damned.

it's starting to be too much. nails digging into the bedsheet, you find your body inching forward. you are not sure if you are trying to run away or get closer to him but when lewis notices this, he grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. his teeth nibbles against a specific spot under your earlobe, pulling another whine out of you.

"you can take it. fuck— good girls take what they asked for. you can do it."

your cunt somehow gets even wetter with his filthy words, at how his accent thickens, voice gets deeper and more hoarse. your pussy shouldn't be squeezing around his dick at his praises, but it did. and the grunts he lets out making it all worth it.

when he hits that sweet spot inside you that no other man has ever quite managed to find, your eyes roll back in ecstasy. you gasp, tears starting to fall again at the sweet pleasure you're experiencing.

the sex is perfect, you know lewis wouldn't disappoint. but your demon is back, suddenly haunting you and making you feel terrible about yourself again.

"what the hell do you think you're doing? oh, that's right. you wasn't. you aren't. you're just a dumb bitch making herself even dumber on this pathetic cock. if only you could see yourself. absolutely shameless. what a whore. begging for this man to fuck you like you never seen a dick before. nothing will ever be the same ever again. he will never look you in the eyes, he'll think of you differently. why didn't you just—"

lewis suddenly stops.

the voices do too, and you are left in confusion. his grip on your wrist is gone now and you didn't even notice. you turn your head, only to see him pulling out.

no. oh, no. no, no, no. the voices were right. he's pulling away. he's regretting this. he's gonna ask you to leave, isn't he?

"can i turn you on your back?" he asks instead.

silence from you for a few seconds before you let out a quiet "what?" before lying on your back on your own. you remove the pillow from under your belly and set it aside.

"you were crying." he points out, brows furrowing as a shadow of concern illuminating his handsome face.

you swallow. you were hoping he wouldn't notice and even if he did, he'd thought that it was because you were enjoying yourself this. the fact that he knows it was the opposite tells you that he knows there are million different things running in your mind right now and you hate it.

"y-yeah but it wasn't— not because of you."

pause. "you want me to slow down?"

again, you shake your head fast.

"i'm okay. please." you hate how quickly you beg for him again.

it's lewis' turn to swallow, his eyes darken slightly at your pleading. he nods before crawling back to you, determined to pick up where he left off, trusting that you will know what to say if you truly desire for him to stop completely.

he grabs one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist before bringing the other to his shoulder. you bite your lip at the way his gaze never wavers from you, making you wonder if he fucks every other girls like this.

no. fuck. stop it. why do you even care?

lewis takes his dick before burying himself inside you once more slightly easier this time. you can't help but moan and thanking him again.

he is slow again at first but it isn't long before his cock slams back at the perfect pace, the sound of skin against skin once again filling up this suite. your whimper mixed with his hisses when you claw on his tattooed back, pulling him closer.

lewis leaves kisses all over your leg, wherever he could reach before his hand sneaks up to fiddle and squeeze your bouncing tits.

you didn't expect him to wipe your tears next.

your eyes locked with his. he continues fucking you but it feels as if time has stopped. he has that look behind the lust that screams sympathy. pity. you hate it but at the same you don't push his hand away, letting him cup your face momentarily. but even lewis doesn't let this gesture happens for too long, always remembering the point of having you underneath him.

it doesn't take long until you feel an invisible knot in your lower belly. you're panting now, almost reaching your peak. lewis realizes this and he fucks you harder, his hand travels down to rub your clit.

"i'm—"

"i know, sweetie," he says, breathless as well. he lowers his body, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and kissing it all over as he feels his own orgasm nearing. "come for me."

a few more thrusts, and you see white. your mouth is agape as you moan silently. his grunt and groans is music to your ears as he spills himself inside the condom.

silence.

lewis never realized how much he needed this as well. not just the sex, but the connection, which he knows is insane to find with someone like you in circumstances like this but what just happened felt different. to be so close with someone he actually knows and not just another girl he calls to his room, not even bother to learn her name.

before he could gather his breath, he feels your body underneath him slipping out. his eyes feels heavy but he tries to hold on, watching you collecting your clothes and dressing back up.

"what are you—"

"that was really great. thank you." was all you said before you left, in a hurry like you refuse to spend another minute in the same room with lewis.

while the man is still on the bed, naked. he hasn't even removed his condom yet. a sigh escapes his lips, lying flat on the bed before staring at the white ceiling.

he did what you asked for, and he could only hope that you would feel better tomorrow morning.

and yet why does his heart suddenly aches, not having you in his arms anymore?

[jhyoos]

Off Limits

chapter two : maybe this time

soccer player vi x talis reader

mentions: player vi, besti ekko, romance, lesbianism, modern au, college au, drama, abby tou, ellie tlou, (they’re coming i promise) cheerleader reader, mention of sex, pierced reader, caitlyn being a bitch

notes: grab some snacks yall

The next morning, as you stood in front of your mirror getting ready, you ignored Jayce completely. He had tried apologizing more times than you could count—knocking on your door, lingering outside your room, calling your name softly—but you refused to acknowledge him. Even when he sighed in frustration, muttering something under his breath as he walked away, you didn’t budge.

Once dressed, you headed downstairs, the scent of warm butter and sizzling eggs greeting you as you stepped into the kitchen. Your mom stood at the stove, her hair still slightly damp from a shower, humming softly as she flipped pancakes. You hadn’t seen her in a while—she had been away on a business trip in L.A., and part of you had missed her presence.

She turned to you with a warm smile as you sat at the island, watching her cook.

“How was your first day of school, mi corazón?” she asked, carefully plating food.

“It was good, Mom,” you replied, picking at your nails absentmindedly.

She gave you a knowing look. “Did you make any new friends?”

You shrugged. “Mmm, not really,” you admitted. “I did see Ekko, though. And his little girlfriend, Jinx. She’s really sweet and pretty.”

Your mom’s smile widened. “I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there.” She placed a plate in front of you, the smell of eggs and toast making your stomach grumble. “What about that cheer tryout video? Did you get accepted?”

You sighed, stabbing at a piece of scrambled egg with your fork. “Don’t know yet. They haven’t said anything.”

She reached over and squeezed your hand. “You’ll get it. I believe in you.” She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back and grabbing a set of keys from the drawer. She placed them on the counter in front of you.

“The car’s parked outside, right in front. It’s new,” she said. “Just don’t forget to wash the dishes before you leave.”

You nodded, still chewing your food.

She gave you one last smile. “Have a good day, sweetheart.” Then, with the jingle of keys and the soft click of the door, she was gone.

Just as you were finishing your breakfast, Jayce came downstairs, already dressed with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He barely spared you a glance as he headed for the door.

“If you’re coming with me, let’s go,” he announced flatly.

You didn’t reply, only reached over and jingled the car keys your mom had left for you. He rolled his eyes before walking out of the apartment without another word.

Once you were done eating, you cleaned up the dishes like your mom had asked, grabbed your bag, and made your way to campus.

The day had been going surprisingly well. Classes were straightforward, and during your break, you decided to head to the library, taking advantage of the quiet space to get ahead on your studies. You sat at a desk tucked in the corner, your laptop open, completely focused on the screen as you typed out notes.

You barely noticed when someone sat down across from you. Assuming it was just another student there to study, you ignored them. That was until your laptop was abruptly shut, you moved your hands away just in time.

Your gaze snapped up, and there she was—Vi, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, an unreadable expression on her face.

Before you could even react, she spoke first. “Where did you go after the party? I was looking for you.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Liar,” you scoffed. “You were too busy exchanging saliva with some other girl.” You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. “And on top of that, you didn’t even do the one thing you said you would—distract Jayce. He caught me.”

Vi sighed, shaking her head. “That’s why you haven’t been answering my texts?” She tilted her head, smirking. “Did you actually think this was something?” She let out a short chuckle. “I just wanted a good fuck, baby.”

Your jaw clenched. “I know this might sound surprising, but so did I.” You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “But it’s kinda a turn off when the girl you show up with is kissing someone else before the night’s even over.”

Vi’s smirk faltered slightly, but you didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, you reopened your laptop, the screen blocking her from your view.

“Have a good fucking day, Violet,” you muttered before refocusing on your work.

Vi hesitated for a moment, as if considering saying something else, but then you heard her scoff softly before standing up and walking away.

After your last class, you made your way home, already hearing the pounding bass of loud music as you approached the door. You sighed, knowing it was most likely Jayce and his friends, which meant the apartment was about to be a chaotic mess.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you flipped through the mail in your hands, tossing most of it onto the small table by the door like you always did. But one envelope caught your eye—the school’s logo printed neatly in the corner. Your breath hitched as you flipped it over, fingers tightening around the edges.

This was it. The results from your cheer tryout.

Cheer had been your passion since middle school, something you threw yourself into completely—until your senior year, when your dad died. You knew you couldn’t keep up with the demanding schedule, so you let it go. But after moving back home, your mom had encouraged you to give it another shot, and you did. You needed something to keep yourself busy, something to feel like you again.

You walked into the living room, distracted as you worked to tear the envelope open. Your bag slid off your shoulder, landing in its usual spot beneath the coffee table. Just as you finally got the letter free, something small and crunchy smacked you right in the forehead.

“The hell?” you muttered, glancing up.

“You’re blocking the TV, dude,” Jayce said flatly, a controller in his hand.

You rolled your eyes but froze when you noticed who was sitting beside him. Vi.

Your stomach twisted as you quickly took in the rest of his friend group—mostly butches and one twink. You looked back at Jayce before stepping aside, muttering under your breath as you finally unfolded the letter.

“Don’t you guys have better shit to do? Like study or—” Your voice cut off abruptly.

Your eyes scanned over the words again just to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

Congratulations, you have been selected as a member of the Arcane Lions Cheer Team.

Your hands trembled slightly as the realization settled in.

“Jayce, read this,” you said, shoving the letter toward him.

He paused the game, ignoring Vi’s groan of protest, and took the paper from you, standing up. His eyes darted across the page, and soon, a wide grin spread across his face.

“Congrats, sis. You’re a Lion,” he said, clapping you on the back.

You smirked. “I’ve been a Lion, dumbass. But thanks.”

Snatching the paper back, you pulled out your phone. “I’m gonna take a pic and send it to Mom.”

Jayce held onto the letter for just a second longer, teasing you before finally letting it go.

From the couch, Vi leaned back, stretching her arms over her head as she smirked. “Guess that means I’ll be seeing you at all the functions,” she teased. “Thank god cheerleaders don’t cheer for the soccer team.”

You scoffed. “I don’t wanna be around you.”

With that, you turned on your heel and headed straight upstairs, ignoring the way Vi’s smirk faltered just slightly as you disappeared down the hall, over hearing their conversation.

“Damn Vi i never seen you fumble so hard”

“I taught my sister well.”

Your first day of cheer practice was absolute hell.

The sun beat down mercilessly as you and the rest of the squad ran suicides up and down the football stadium bleachers. Your legs burned, your lungs screamed, and the insane body workouts that followed only made things worse. Every squat, push-up, and burpee felt like a personal attack. But the real kicker? The person barking orders at you all, making sure you pushed past your limits, was her.

The blue-haired girl from the bonfire. The one Vi had kissed.

And, of course, she just had to be the cheer captain.

You clenched your jaw and kept your head down, forcing yourself through every miserable rep. You weren’t about to let Caitlyn see you struggle. She was already making you work twice as hard as the others, calling you out whenever your form faltered, ensuring you knew exactly who was in charge.

By the time practice finally ended, you felt like you had been hit by a truck. You wiped sweat from your brow, chugging water like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Just when you thought you were free to leave, the team was ushered into the locker room to get measured for uniforms.

You were exhausted, body sore, and the last thing you wanted was to stand around half-dressed while someone took your measurements. But you endured it, standing in line as tape measures wrapped around your waist, bust, and hips, trying not to think about how much you hated being scrutinized like this.

Just as you were about to grab your bag and head out, Caitlyn stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

“You’re Jayce Talis’ little sister, right?” she asked, her piercing blue eyes locked onto yours.

You forced a polite, fake smile and nodded. “Yep. That’s me.”

Her gaze flickered over you, eyes dragging from your face down to your torso like she was assessing your worth. “I expect the best out of you since you’re the sibling of a top athlete here.”

Before you could respond, she reached out and grabbed the waistband of your shorts, tugging them slightly to peek inside.

Your body tensed, a flash of discomfort shooting up your spine.

“You’re gonna have to take that belly ring out during games,” Caitlyn remarked, her tone casual, like she wasn’t just invading your space. Then, she tilted her head, smirking. “What else do you have pierced?”

You hesitated for a second, shifting uncomfortably before mumbling, “Um… my nipples.”

Caitlyn hummed. “Figures.” She finally let go of your shorts, stepping back. The movement of the shorts snapping back onto your body hit your belly ring which made you hiss from the sudden pain. “Nothing some boob tape won’t hide, I guess.”

You exhaled, hoping that was the end of it, but then she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough for only you to hear.

“Oh, and I’ve heard about you… from Vi,” she said, her smile saccharine but her eyes sharp. “Stay away from her, or I’ll make your experience here a living hell. Okay?”

She patted your shoulder mockingly before turning on her heel and walking away like she hadn’t just threatened you with a sweet smile on her face.

You stood there for a moment, fists clenched at your sides.

What the fuck had you just gotten yourself into?

The warm water had washed away the grime of practice, but not the lingering frustration in your chest. Your muscles ached from the brutal workout Caitlyn had put you through, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with any more bullshit.

You stepped out of the shower, grabbing one of the towels provided and wrapping it around yourself. The locker room was mostly empty now, just the faint sound of water dripping from the showerheads and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You dried yourself off quickly, rubbing the towel over your arms and legs before slipping on your underwear.

As you reached behind your back, struggling to clasp your bra, the locker room door swung open. The sound of laughter and footsteps echoed off the tiled walls.

You glanced up in the mirror.

Vi.

And, of course, she wasn’t alone. A handful of girls from the soccer team trailed in behind her, still riding the high of their practice. They were loud, chatting and joking amongst themselves, but Vi’s attention was locked onto you.

Her gaze swept over you in an obvious once-over, a slow smirk pulling at her lips.

“Damn, Talis,” she drawled, leaning against a row of lockers, arms crossed over her chest. “You got a nice body.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to snap at her. Instead, you focused on finally securing the stupid clasp of your bra, your fingers fumbling slightly in irritation.

Vi didn’t seem to care that you were ignoring her. If anything, it just encouraged her.

She tilted her head, eyes lingering a little too long. “Is that a belly ring?” Her smirk widened. “That’s hot.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, grabbing your sweatpants and stepping into them.

“Vi, I don’t have time for you and your bullshit,” you muttered, pulling them up your legs and tightening the drawstring.

Vi just chuckled, like your attitude amused her. Like you weren’t still pissed off at her from the bonfire.

You refused to let her get under your skin. You refused to let her think she could flirt her way back into your good graces.

Not this time.

Vi stepped closer, her presence looming just as you pulled your cropped black shirt over your head, the fabric hugging your body snugly. The heat of her proximity made your skin prickle, but you kept your focus on adjusting your sleeves, refusing to give her the reaction she wanted.

“What are you doing later tonight?” Vi asked, her voice smooth, almost casual, like she hadn’t just put you through hell the past 24 hours.

“Homework,” you replied flatly, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder.

Vi didn’t take the hint. “How about I see you tonight?” she offered, her tone dropping into something more suggestive. “Your brother isn’t gonna be home, which is perfect.”

You finally turned to her, eyes narrowing in disgust. Did she really think she could just waltz in here and pretend like nothing had happened?

You scoffed. “Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend that was threatening me this morning?” you said, tilting your head. “You know, the blue-haired girl… cheer captain?”

Vi shrugged, that cocky smirk still plastered on her face. Like none of this mattered. Like you were just another game to her.

That was it.

You stepped closer, meeting her gaze with unwavering intensity. “Let’s get one thing straight, Vi, okay?” you said, voice cold. “I’m not your little plaything. I don’t have low standards for someone like you.”

Her smirk twitched, but she stayed silent.

“You kissed another girl while you were with me—God knows what else you did—and you expect me to run into your arms?” You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Get the fuck over yourself and get your head out of your ass. I don’t want you. So stop bothering me.”

Before she could respond, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the locker room, leaving her standing there, speechless for once.

After finishing your classes for the day, you made a quick stop at Dutch Bros, treating yourself to an iced coffee before heading home. The caffeine was much needed after the grueling cheer practice and the long lectures.

When you stepped into the apartment, the smell of food immediately hit you. Jayce was in the kitchen, standing by the counter, focused on making himself a sandwich. His broad frame blocked most of the counter, but you could see the neatly stacked ingredients—deli meat, cheese, lettuce—laid out beside him.

“Oooh, make me one, please,” you asked, setting your drink down on the island.

Jayce glanced up at you briefly before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

A grin tugged at your lips. “Thank you, housewife.”

Jayce rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, just continued assembling your sandwich like the “good” big brother he was.

As you leaned against the counter, sipping your coffee, he spoke up. “Are you gonna come to the soccer game tonight?”

You sighed, already knowing there was no escaping it. “Yeah. I have no choice—Jinx is driving.”

Jayce chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, she’s just like her sister. She doesn’t let up.”

That caught your attention. You furrowed your brows, setting your coffee down. “Who’s her sister?”

“Vi,” Jayce answered plainly, as if it were common knowledge.

Your eyebrow shot up instinctively. You let that piece of information sink in for a moment before scoffing. “Honestly… not even surprised.”

Jayce smirked as he slid the plate with your sandwich across the counter.

Then, after a pause, he hesitated before speaking. “Are you still mad at me about the party?”

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then go ahead and lash out on me.”

You set your sandwich down and stared at him, your jaw tightening. “If you yell at me and degrade me the way you did at the party, I will cut your dick off and shove it so far up your ass you’ll be coughing it up,” you said, voice calm but laced with venom.

Jayce winced but didn’t interrupt.

“You know how I feel about people accusing me of relapsing,” you continued, your grip on the plate tightening. “And I especially hate it when you or Mom do it. A stupid Cayman Jack isn’t gonna make me relapse. I’m not that fucking weak.”

Jayce sighed, his expression shifting to guilt. “Right. I apologize.”

You exhaled slowly, picking your sandwich back up. “You’re forgiven.”

Jayce glanced at his phone, checking the time before grabbing his sandwich. “I gotta go—meeting with the coach before the game,” he said, taking one last bite before leaning down to kiss your cheek.

You hummed in acknowledgment, still focused on your food as he made his way to the door.

Just as he pulled it open, he nearly ran into Jinx, who had her hand raised as if she were about to knock. The two of them froze, staring at each other in mutual awkwardness before Jayce finally stepped aside, allowing her in. Without another word, he closed the door behind her and left.

Jinx turned toward you with a playful grin. “Hello, (Y/N),” she greeted, plopping onto the stool beside you.

You glanced at her, swallowing the last bite you took before returning the smile. “Why are you here so early?”

“I wanted to get food first, but clearly you have that figured out,” Jinx teased, eyeing your sandwich.

Your chewing slowed as you glanced down at your plate, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about eating in front of her. You placed the sandwich down with exaggerated slowness, making her snicker.

“I’m still hungry, though,” you admitted. “Let me change, and then we can go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jinx said with a mock salute, watching as you rolled your eyes and dashed up the stairs.

The game started, and within minutes, you understood why the entire school had shown up. Your team wasn’t just good—they were insanely talented. Jayce commanded the field with pinpoint passes, Ekko’s footwork and kicks were pure finesse, and Vi? She was everywhere. Aggressive, quick, and completely in control, she weaved through the opposing team like she was made for this. Together, the three of them were an unstoppable force, dominating the game like a well-oiled machine.

You and Jinx cheered every time they scored, and the entire bleacher section erupted with each goal. The energy was electric, and even though you weren’t exactly a sports fan, you couldn’t deny how exciting it was to watch them play.

When the game ended in an easy victory, the stands emptied out, but the buzz didn’t die. Whispers spread quickly—there was a party tonight. Caitlyn Kiramman’s house.

Jinx nudged you with her elbow. “You coming?”

You scoffed. “Absolutely not. But you should go—with Ekko.”

She rolled her eyes, but you didn’t miss the way her lips curled into a barely-there smile.

As the two of you waited near the locker room gate, the team finally emerged, still high off their win. Ekko spotted Jinx immediately and wasted no time slinging an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them.

But before you could comment, a weight settled around your shoulders. You stiffened, turning your head to find Vi standing there, her arm lazily draped around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your jaw tightened. “Was me telling you off in that locker room not enough?”

Vi gave you an easy grin. “We can’t be friends?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine.” You let her arm stay there—until her hand drifted lower, groping your chest.

You scoffed, shoving her off. “What the fuck?!”

Vi held up her hands in mock innocence, her smirk unrepentant. “I had to. They were sitting so perfectly.”

Your glare could’ve set her on fire. “Touch me again, and I’ll kill you.”

Vi only laughed, grabbing your pointing finger and giving it a playful squeeze. “Walk with me. Please.”

You stared at her for a long moment before exhaling sharply. “…Fine.”

She wasted no time grabbing your hand, leading you away from the crowd toward a more secluded spot behind the bleachers.

“I wanna try again,” she said once you were alone.

You narrowed your eyes. “Try what again?”

“Taking you out.”

You snorted. “Be for real.”

“I am serious,” Vi insisted. “We can try again at the pool party tonight.”

You blinked at her. “Caitlyn Kiramman’s house? The cheer captain? You want me dead, don’t you?”

“I talked to Caitlyn,” Vi said smoothly. “Told her we aren’t gonna see each other anymore. She’s cool with it. And…I told her to leave you alone.”

You eyed her skeptically. “And I’m just supposed to believe that?”

Vi shrugged. “Believe what you want. But I handled it.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “…What about Jayce?”

“He’ll be too busy with Mel,” she said easily. “They’ve got a date tonight. He said he’s ‘gonna get lucky’ or whatever, so he’s definitely not gonna be there.”

You hesitated, mulling it over. “…Alright. But I swear to God, Vi, if you embarrass me, I will never let you live it down.”

“Fine,I promise,” she said with a chuckle. Then, before you could react, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

You barely had time to process the warmth before she pulled away, grinning. “I’ll pick you up at 8. Have a swimsuit on.”

And with that, she walked off, leaving you standing there—flustered and way more interested in this party than you’d ever planned to be.

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[angellic4l]

nine lives - d.m

in which; derek gets injured in the field and fem!reader isn’t happy with him.

content; tw! derek has bruises from bullets, kinda graphic desc(?), nicknames (doll, sugar, ma'am, etc,), cocky!derek x annoyed!reader, inaccuracies i’m sure but who cares, derek's abs, jj cockblocks(?) i suppose.

a/n; @darkmatilda requested this everybody say thank you matilda! i’ve been slacking w posting but my wips hate me apparently. kisses! wc: 1.9k

A sickly feeling still resided in your stomach. Your head was throbbing with the constant bombardment of ‘what if?’ and a million ways the situation could’ve been avoided. This and the three distinct crashes of go bags hitting oak desks, similar to that of three gunshots - at least in your addled brain - were enough to tell you that the irritation that’s been brewing was definitely still residing.

He’d been hurt in the field.

The thought almost made you gag, the anger overpowering, consuming every part of your body until you did something about it. It felt like it was begging you to purge it, cleanse it from your body, and god did you want to. However, the more logical part of you knew that throwing up wouldn’t make the frustration go away, wouldn’t stop the onslaught of worst case scenarios in your mind’s eye. The only thing it would serve for is making you feel even worse.

Opening one of the wooden desk drawers, you take out a water bottle and guzzle almost half of it down. In the midst of all of the stress and chaos, water was the least of your priorities. From across the room, a pair of eyes can be felt tracking you, watching each and every move you make. Against your better judgement, your head snapped up to see who it was.A futile action; you had already known that it was Derek staring at you but, since the incident, you’d made it a point to avoid him. Unfortunately for you, instincts had taken over a few moments ago and now the awkward jet ride had been in vain.

Realistically, you were aware that being mad at somebody for getting shot at wasn’t particularly logical, but you couldn’t help it, and so you’d kept your distance from Morgan. In place of your usual banter on the jet was an unusual silence, your ears were void of the usual 90’s hip-hop/R&B that came with him sharing his headphones with you, and he wasn’t warming your side with his usual presence because you’d sat away from him.

Familiar voices snap you both out of the staring contest that had started to ensue, your mind quickly recognising them as Reid and Penelope’s.

“He what?” Penelope gasped, manicured hands slapping over her mouth instantaneously.

In response, Spencer’s face had fallen flat, lips pressing into a thin line, signalling he’d probably just let something slip that wasn’t already common knowledge. Clearly, he’d just accidentally informed Penelope about Derek’s incident out in the field.

“Reid,” Morgan chided, before turning his attention to the blonde who stood in front of him now, “Baby girl, I’m okay. See? Still alive and breathin’.”

“But you… And the… Oh God,” Penelope stopped and started, trailing off before starting another thought. Whether it was because she was overwhelmed by the news or didn’t want to say the words out loud, you weren’t too sure.

Watching the whole ordeal from your desk only intensified the completely unreasonable anger you felt, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. Derek’s soothing murmurs to Penelope faded into the background as the different outcomes of today played in your head.

Derek had been shot at, standard for a field agent of course, but the bullets had hit him. If it wasn’t for his vest, he would be in the hospital right now. All because he’d taken a chance and trusted a deranged psychopath to put down his weapon at the hands of the FBI. God, the overwhelming urge to smack some sense into Derek Morgan only grew as you thought about the situation, how he hadn’t waited for back up, how he’d lowered his weapon without so much as an ounce of hesitation.

The opinions you harboured on the matter weren’t fair; you weren’t there, you don’t know what had actually happened, however any and all logic was proving to be out of depth in the cauldron of agitation that had been brewing since you’d been told what had happened. You knew that it wasn’t fair to blame him. You also knew that this response definitely came from fear rather than actually being mad at him, but acknowledging that meant opening up the door for something else entirely. Some things were better left untouched, in your opinion.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Based on the terribly sluggish nature of everybody’s movements and the slow ticking of the clock looming over the room, it was obvious that nobody wanted to be at work. In full fairness, it wasn’t usual to stay at the bureau after returning from a case, but the case had wrapped up quicker than expected. Hotch had announced on the jet that Strauss had ‘asked’ if it were a possibility. You figured it was to make up for the hotel rooms they’d prepaid for, what with the new budget cuts.

After what felt like the umpteenth time you’d caught yourself staring at Derek and watching him wince in pain, you chewed the inside of your cheek while standing up and making your way over to his desk. The bullpen was free from the team; Hotch and Rossi were in their offices, as was JJ, Reid was off in Penelope’s ‘lair’, and Prentiss was in the kitchenette making coffee. By the time you’d reached Derek’s desk, you were sure you’d be missing half of your cheek with the vice-like grip your premolars had on it.

Once you were fairly certain that opening your mouth wouldn’t be followed by an onslaught of swear words or beratement, you spoke to Morgan for the first time in hours.

“Come with me.”

“You tryin’ to kidnap me, doll? If you want me that bad, you can just say so,” he teases, attempting a soft snicker at his own joke before wincing in pain slightly.

“No. Just stop being cocky and listen for once, Derek.”

For a few moments, he leaves you standing in front of his desk, waiting for a response, and feeling like an absolute idiot. Finally, he gives you a look - accompanied by a small shrug of one shoulder - that simply reads as ‘touche’ and then he’s rising from his seat. Schooling your expression to keep it impassive as you turn to lead the way, silently relieved that he’s actually cooperating with you, you remain silent as you keep walking with Derek behind you.

Just down the hall from the bullpen and the other offices the BAU consists of, there’s a small, beige, forgotten infirmary room that nobody ever uses for its original intention. That changes today, you suppose. As Derek shuts the door behind himself, he opens his mouth after taking in the secluded room and the examination table that could double as a bed, but you beat him to it.

“Sit down, Morgan.”

“Sugar, you are desperate for it, huh?”

“Sit. Down.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, “Yes ma’am,” before sitting on the bed of green plastic covered with a thin sheet of paper.

With Derek finally sat down, you open one of the dusty cupboards and pull out one of the 15 (you counted them once) first aid kits in there before turning back to face Morgan and placing it to the left of him. Unclipping the green, plastic case and opening it up causes one of Morgan’s eyebrows to raise.

“What’s that for, sugar?”

“You. I know you’re in pain and not saying anything.”

Your tone is firm, facial expression showing nothing but exasperation with him so, he relents with a sigh before grabbing the hem of his grey t-shirt and pulling it up so that you can tend to his wounds. At the sight of his bare skin, abs exposed to you and all, your heart rate picks up and the room feels like it’s getting warmer by the minute.

“Stupid decision, by the way,” you add in a murmur, praying to whatever is out there that he can’t tell how much his chiseled torso is affecting you.

“Mama, I’m just fine. Really,” he insists, but you’re already digging through the first aid box.

Remembering what he’d been told to do by paramedics, to keep the bruises cool and wrapped, you reach for one of the ice packs in the first aid kit. Before activating it, your hand hesitantly moves towards the wrapped section of his midriff to expose the bruised skin beneath it.

Morgan hisses slightly when your finger brushes a bruise rather than the white cloth, the sound causing you to retract your hand as if he had hurt you and not the other way around. You mumble a small sorry and return your attention to the ice pack next to him, picking it up and activating it with a cracking noise.

“This gonna hurt?”

“Not as much as getting shot at.”

“What was that for?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

By now, you’re pressing the ice pack lightly to the area of injury, barely any space between the two of you as he sits on the examining table with you standing in between his legs. Your gaze finally meets his - probably a good thing, you conclude, because staring at his abs any longer might’ve made you melt - eye contact unwavering.

“Don’t play that game with me. Since I got shot, you’ve been acting differently. Avoiding me, sitting away from me on the jet, hardly even making eye contact with me, this weird hostile attitude. Why?”

“Because, Derek, you got shot at and it was stupid. You should’ve been more careful.”

“Sugar, I know you don’t believe it was my fault I got shot,” his tone softens, “What’s really going on up there, hm?”

His finger lightly taps on your forehead, again reminding you of just how close the two of you are to each other, because you didn’t even see his arm move to do it. Both of you are yet to disturb the intense eye contact happening, eyes boring into each other’s - his searching for answers in yours, yours seeking relief in his.

“I shouldn’t have been mad at you for getting shot at. I’m sorry.”

“I just wanna know why, doll.”

“You scared me. A lot,” you admit in a whisper, fighting the urge to bow your head and nuzzle into the top of his chest.

Instead, you keep your head level as the both of you stare at each other, your hand still pressing the ice pack to his lower midriff during the interaction. Visibly, his face softens with your admission, and then his lips curve into a barely there smirk.

“Yeah? You care about me, sweetheart? Awh,” he teases.

“Seriously. You don’t have nine lives, D, you can’t risk losing this one.”

“Yes, ma’am. I am so sorry for forgetting that I’m not a cat.”

“God, you can’t ever be serious, can you?”

“Hard to be serious when there’s a pretty woman tending to my wounds, angel.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you mutter and let your eyes drop to his abs between you, momentarily distracted.

“See something you like?”

As you go to reply, lips slightly parted - though the words that should’ve come out hadn’t even fully formed in your head yet - the door swings open to reveal one Jennifer Jareau. Morgan turns his head slowly to look at her while you whip your head to the right so fast it could’ve given you whiplash.

JJ’s face contorts with confusion, you presume it’s because she only expected to find you in here - and certainly not extremely close to Morgan with your hand resting on his midriff.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not interrupting something, am I?”

“No, Jayje, you’re okay,” you reassure her.

“Hotch needs everyone in the briefing room.”

“We just got back,” Morgan grumbles.

“He said it was urgent. I’ll uh, let you two… finish up,” the blond says quietly, giving the two of you an awkward smile, and then closing the door behind her.

[maretinelli]

HAMILTON INTERVIEW

DadLewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When Marie has a school activity where she needs to interview one of the parents about his profession, Pietra gets very excited and wants to do the same.

Words: 2.3K+

Warnings: Mentions of Lewis's career, Pietra jokes, cute daughters, funny couple teasing.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any mistakes that may be in the story. This story is part of a miniseries, Universe of A NON-SEPARATION, but can easily be read as a standalone. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

The Hamiltons' house was in a peaceful late afternoon. The sun was already beginning to set, bathing the living room in a soft golden light. From upstairs, the sound of doors opening and closing indicated that Marie and Pietra were in their rooms, changing clothes and organizing their backpacks after the day of school.

On the couch, Y/n sighed as she settled down next to her husband. Lewis smiled sideways and, without hesitation, pulled her into a hug, nestling her against his chest.

"How was your day?" He asked, running his fingers lightly down her arm.

"Tiring. I had to make several appointments at the office and a team from a hospital contacted me, wanting to hire me to help with a major surgery next month." Y/n admitted, closing her eyes for a second, enjoying the contact. "I'll explain better later... Picking up the girls from school was the easiest part. And yours?"

Lewis laughed. "I spent all day relaxing with Roscoe on the couch."

Y/n opened her eyes and stared at him, feigning indignation.

"How envious!"

The pilot laughed again, but soon slid his hand to his wife's face, caressing her cheek before pulling her in for a kiss. Their lips met in a soft, familiar touch, which gradually deepened. It was a calm kiss, the kind that didn't need to be rushed, just the moment. Lewis slid his fingers down the back of Y/n's neck, feeling the heat of her skin against his.

The moment, however, was interrupted by a familiar sound. Near the stairs, Marie cleared her throat, drawing her parents' attention.

The two walked away slowly and exchanged a knowing look before turning to Marie, who was watching them with a notebook and pencil case in her hands.

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked amusedly, arching an eyebrow and holding back a smile.

Lewis smiled, settling back into the couch.

"It depends... do you want to talk about something really serious or can we continue?"

"LEWIS!" Y/n lightly slapped his arm, laughing, before looking at her daughter. "What's wrong, honey?"

Marie smiled and ignored her father's joke, getting straight to the point.

"I have to do a paper on professions. I have to interview one of you."

Immediately, Lewis and Y/n exchanged a glance, as if they were competing for a valuable prize.

"Well, I think we all know which profession is more interesting here..." Lewis said, crossing his arms with a smug smile.

"That's right..." Y/n agreed. "The medical one!!"

Marie laughed. "Actually... I chose Dad's profession."

"AHA!" Lewis cheered, looking at Y/n like he had just won a race. "Victory for me!"

Y/n rolled her eyes, laughing. "How unfair. I lost to Formula 1."

"Accept defeat with grace, doctor." He teased, smiling.

Y/n returned the smile before gently pushing him onto the couch.

Marie shook her head in amusement before sitting down on the floor and spreading her supplies out on the coffee table in the living room. Lewis soon followed suit, crossing his legs and settling himself in front of his daughter.

At that moment, Pietra came down the stairs, stopping when she saw the two of them sitting across from each other.

"Why are you like this? Are you going to arm wrestle?"

There was general laughter.

Pietra then crossed the room and threw herself next to her mother on the sofa, still looking suspiciously at the scene.

"Your sister has a school project to do with Daddy." Y/n explained, running her fingers through her daughter's curls.

"I want to do that too!"

Lewis turned to her with a warm smile.

"So grab some paper and pencil, little journalist. I'll answer any questions you want."

The youngest smiled excitedly and jumped off the couch, running up the stairs.

"BE CAREFUL, PIETRA!" Y/n warned, already anticipating her daughter's haste.

Meanwhile, Marie looked at her father. "The teacher gave us some questions we can use, but I made up some extra ones.

"I like the initiative." Lewis said, nodding. "Send the first one."

Marie looked at her notes and read aloud: "Why did you choose to be a Formula 1 driver?"

Lewis smiled, remembering the beginning of his career.

"Oh, that's an easy one. I've always loved running. Ever since I was little, I knew I wanted to do it for the rest of my life. So I dedicated myself, trained hard, and through a lot of hard work, I got to where I am today."

Marie took notes in her notebook as Pietra returned from upstairs, carrying a piece of paper and several colored pencils. She sat next to her sister and watched curiously as Marie formulated the next question.

Y/n, sitting on the couch, rested her elbows on her thighs and smiled. She knew her Hamiltons like the back of her hand. Marie would ask detailed questions and take notes seriously, while Pietra, in a few seconds, would say something funny and unexpected.

It was just a matter of time.

"What was the most difficult moment in your career?"

Lewis raised his eyebrows, surprised by the complexity of the question. He was silent for a few seconds, thinking.

"Hm... I think one of the hardest moments was when I narrowly lost a championship. We work all year for this, and when it doesn't happen, it's frustrating. But I learned that it's part of the sport, and we always have to move forward."

Marie nodded, writing everything down carefully.

Beside her, Pietra shifted excitedly on the cushion where she was sitting and looked at her father.

"Now it's my turn!"

Lewis smiled, already expecting something unexpected from the youngest.

Pietra took her paper and began to draw with colored pencils. As she traced something on the paper, she asked: "If there was a race against a dinosaur, who would win?"

There was general laughter. Marie rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile as she finished writing down her father's previous answer.

"Good question!" Lewis said, pretending to actually consider the question. "I guess it depends on the dinosaur. If it's a velociraptor, maybe it would be a handful, but if it's a T-Rex, I'll win hands down!"

Pietra nodded in agreement, as if she were an expert on the subject, as she continued her drawing.

On the couch, Y/n rested her face in her hands and laughed softly at the scene. Lewis looked away from her and smiled, his eyes shining with love. He loved seeing his wife having fun with the little things in the family. It was in these moments, in the midst of his daughters' fun chaos, that he realized how much he loved that life with them.

Marie finished writing and then turned to her father. "Daddy, how do you spell 'frustrating'?"

"Come here and I'll show you, honey," Lewis said, leaning over to read his daughter's notebook.

Marie brought the notebook closer and he pointed out the letters slowly, spelling them out for her.

“Ah, I see.” She smiled. “Thank you.” Once she had finished writing, Marie looked back at her list of questions. “Okay, next… How did you feel in your first Formula 1 race?”

Lewis gave a nostalgic smile.

"Oh, I was so nervous. It was one of the most exciting days of my life, and I just wanted to do my best. That's when I realized I was exactly where I always wanted to be."

Marie wrote everything down while Pietra continued drawing. The silence in the room lasted a few seconds until Marie realized something.

She lightly nudged her sister's arm and muttered softly, "P, your turn..."

Pietra raised her head, blinking a few times.

"Oh! It's true!"

She placed a finger on her chin and made a thoughtful expression before saying, "Daddy... have you ever slept inside the racing car?"

Lewis blinked, surprised by the question.

Y/n brought her hand to her mouth to hold back a laugh, while Marie shook her head, already used to her sister's unusual questions.

"Well..." Lewis crossed his arms, pretending to be thinking. "Not yet, but considering how much I travel, maybe one day I'll try!"

Pietra giggled and went back to drawing, satisfied with the answer. Marie just sighed, returning to her notes.

"Dad... what's it like for you to run and have a family at the same time?"

The question took Lewis by surprise for a moment. He looked away to Y/n, who was on the couch, watching everything with a calm smile. They exchanged a look full of affection before Lewis answered.

"At first, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to balance it all," he admitted, looking back at Marie. "But having you guys makes it all worth it. Every race I win, every podium, every hard lap... at the end of the day, I know I'll always come home to you guys, and that's the best feeling in the world."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart warm with those words. Marie smiled too, writing everything carefully, while Pietra, who was focused on her paper and colored pencils, blurted out out of nowhere:

"If mom was a pilot, would you beat her?"

The silence lasted only a second before Y/n let out a surprised laugh.

"I loved that!" She said, looking at Lewis with a mischievous look. "So, Hamilton? Would I give you a hard time?"

Lewis tilted his head, pretending to think.

"Hm... I think you'd be a tough opponent, but in the end..." He paused dramatically. "I would win!!"

Y/n widened her eyes, pretending to be offended.

"WHAT?"

Marie laughed, while Pietra looked at her father with wide eyes.

"Daddy! But what if Mommy was like... really fast?"

"I drive well!!!" Y/n retorted, crossing her arms. "Do you think I would never win a race from you?"

Lewis laughed, defending himself. "You have talent, love, but... experience counts!"

"Oh, now you're trying to teach me about motor racing?"

Marie laughed more and more, while Pietra just looked from one to the other, amused.

"I think mommy would win, yes!" Pietra declared, going back to drawing on the paper.

"That's right, P!" Y/n joked, winking at her daughter.

Lewis shook his head, laughing.

Meanwhile, Marie remained serious and organized, writing the answers correctly, while Pietra had already given up on the interview and was decorating her paper with stickers and hearts around her father's name.

Lewis looked at her drawing and chuckled.

"P is more concerned with making art than writing down the answers."

"Hey, I'm writing it down my way!" Pietra said, holding up the drawing to show. She had drawn Lewis in a race car and a dinosaur running alongside him.

Lewis laughed out loud.

Marie shook her head and asked another question. "What was the most special day of your career?"

Lewis smiled and replied, telling about his first victory in Formula 1. But, in the middle of the answer, Y/n made a sound with her mouth and crossed her arms.

"Hm... I think he's forgetting something important..."

Lewis looked at her, confused. "What?"

"That the most special day of your career was when your daughters were born," she said with a smile.

Marie rolled her eyes, laughing. "Mom, that doesn't count as a day in his career..."

"Of course it counts!" Y/n insisted. "I remember you were almost born in the Mercedes garage. And when your father held you for the first time, he said you were the greatest trophy of his life."

Lewis smiled, nodding. "Okay, okay, you're right. The most important victory of my life was you three."

Pietra gave a satisfied smile, while Marie wrote it down in her notebook in a more serious manner.

The mood became more relaxed, and then Marie frowned thoughtfully.

"Did you know that when I was very little, I was scared of the noise of the cars when I went to my first GP?"

Lewis raised his eyebrows. "Really? You remember that? I was so little!"

Marie nodded. "I was about a year old, I think...but I remember it was really loud. I think I cried."

Y/n confirmed, laughing. "Yes, you cried and clung to daddy at the time. You only stopped when he started talking softly in your ear and calmed you down."

Lewis smiled at the memory. "And now here you are, writing down everything about racing. Who would have thought, huh?"

Marie smirked.

"Yes...the noise doesn't scare me anymore."

Pietra looked at her sister and made a funny face. "You were scared!"

"You cried the first time too!" Y/n says smiling

"I think it's a lie..." Pietra says amusedly, coloring the drawing.

Everyone laughed together.

After several questions, laughter, and memories, Marie closed the notebook with a satisfied sigh.

"I think I have everything I need." She said, looking at her father with a smile. "Thank you, Daddy."

Lewis motioned for her to come into his embrace and smiled. Marie stood up and walked over to him, hugging her father as he ran his hands through her hair.

"Anything for you, sweetie"

Marie smiled proudly as Pietra held up her drawing and showed it to her father.

"I'm done too! Look, Daddy! You're running next to a dinosaur!"

Lewis took the paper and looked at the drawing carefully. He held back a laugh when he saw the dinosaur next to his car, but smiled fondly.

"I think this race was the most exciting I've ever had!"

Pietra smiled with satisfaction and threw herself into her father's arms too, Marie looked at the drawing and laughed.

"Well, now I just need to make a clean copy and write the final text..." Marie looked at the notebook on the other side of the table, still next to her father, hugging his neck.

"Do you want help, daughter?" Y/n asked.

"No need, Mom, I can handle it."

"My organized girl!" Y/n approached the three in the hug and kissed Marie's head and soon after Pietra, Lewis smiled seeing his three girls.

"I think my drawing is also worth it as a school project! I'm going to paste it in my notebook!

"And I'm sure your teacher will love it," Lewis said, kissing the top of his daughter's head.

Y/n smiled, watching the two girls snuggle into their father's side. It was in these little things that she saw how lucky she was to have that family.

[lila-went-missing]

reader AND vis first time

I saw this and got so excited to write it I'm not even gonna lie.

Warnings: Smut (duh), fluff at the end, switch Vi (kinda), body worship. Lmk if I missed anything.

Vi's body slotted perfectly on top of yours, like two pieces that were missing from a puzzle.

Her weight on top of you quickly turned into one of your favorite sensations. Her chest pressed against yours. That's exactly where she is now. Her arms rest on either side of your head, one hand cupping your cheek. Your tongues slide against each other in a sloppy but unbelievably passionate kiss.

You gasp as her knee presses against you.

"Fuck, VI." She breathes out a chuckle against your lips.

"Feel good Cupcake?"

"Mhm.." Her mouth moves to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point. A hand grips your hip and pulls you up against her.

Her own shirt is thrown off somewhere, you don't bother looking where. Not when her bare chest is right in front of your face. You sit up, legs caging her in. You pull her waist up against you and attach your lips to one of her nipples.

You lick and suck, pinching the other with your hand. Hickies are sucked into the surrounding skin. Vi isn't a super vocal person, usually letting out small grunts and huffs. But now whimpering more than you've ever heard her. You would've done this a long time ago if you had known her tits were this sensitive.

"Mmh shit Cupcake, keep doing that."

How could you ever say no to her?" You switch your mouth and hand sides, giving her exactly what she wants. Her hand cradles the back of your head, short nails scratching at your scalp.

After a few seconds she pulls you away, attaching her mouth back to yours. Your hands grope at her tits, unable to pull away.

"I've never- I've never done this before." She tells you. It's not often you see Vi looking nervous, but right now, she does.

"Me neither." You tell her. Something in her face changes and you can tell she isn't as worried. "We can go slow." Your hands slow down with your words, as if proving it.

She nods and crawls back on top of you, slower this time. It's nice, not as rushed. The feeling of her body relaxed against you makes you happier than anything else has in a while. You're more aware of how warm she is, how soft her skin is.

She pulls your own shirt over your head. Her hands drag over your body with more appreciation than you've ever felt from a man. Probably why you always left them way before anything started.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She eyes your chest before showing you the same attention you showed her. It's your turn to run your hand through her hair, lightly pulling it.

She works her hands at your belt, pulling your pants down your legs.

"Can I taste you, baby? Please?" You can't deny her anything, especially not with that desperate and whiny tone in her voice.

You nod but she's already pulling your panties down and diving her tongue into your pussy. Her hands wrap around her thighs, your thighs wrap around her head. She decides then and there that if she ever were to suffocate, this is how she would want to go out.

You've never felt anything like this. There's a warmth in your belly pulling tight as she goes. Her tongues switch's between kitten licking and suckling at your clit to fucking against your g-spot inside of you.

Time ceases to exist, she could've spent anywhere from a minute to a thousand years between your legs. You wouldn't know the difference.

Just when that coil is about to snap, she's pulling back and licking her lips.

"Vi..." Any other time you'd be embarrassed of how whiny you are, but not tonight. She's slipping her own bottoms off and slotting her legs in between yours.

"I want you to come against my pussy." She mutters against your lips.

Holy shit.

Those might be the hottest words you've ever heard in your life but you wouldn't know. Because the second her clit catches against yours you lose any memory that she isn't in.

It's fiery in a way you've never felt. The pleasure is all consuming, wrapping around your limbs pulling you into her. Your hands grab her hips, keeping her up against you. Your own hips buck up into her, amplifying the pleasure.

"Oh my- gosh Violet." You choke out. Her own voice is whimpering out. You hear the word "fuck" multiple times.

"Oh, Cupcake please.. you're so wet, fuck baby. You feel so good."

You throw your head back into the pillows. You wanted to last a lot longer than this but that's just not possible. Not with the way she's grinding her dripping pussy against yours. The sound of your juices mixing together is so lewd it throws you over the edge.

"You gonna cum for me? Come on, cum on my fucking pussy baby. Let me have it."

You don't remember anything that you say. Your orgasm is so powerful that you black out. You faintly hear the words coming out of her own mouth, but you know she's having an orgasm just as powerful.

She falls on top of you, arms wrapping around your waist. Yours come up around her back. You trace the ink of her tattoo, more content than you've been in a while.

Her lips press into your neck. It isn't sexual, just loving. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love you." You tell her, honestly.

"I love you." You know she's being honest too.

[smallestapplin]

A kiss for the road

Arthur Morgan x traveling doctor!Reader

Warnings : no TB au, fluff, talks of some minor injuries, playful banter, established relationship.

This was commissioned by @yanban-san !

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The outlaw groans as he slowly rides into town, his horse taking a leisurely pace just so their rider doesn’t get jostled too much. Entering a familiar town was just what Arthur needed, he knew the right places to avoid attention. His shoulder aches, the cut on his cheek stopped oozing blood a while back, no doubt you’re going to be upset with him over that.

But you’re better than trying to patch it up at camp by himself.

Arthur told himself he wouldn’t fall, he’s not a good man, you deserve better than an outlaw like him, you deserve someone you could show off, someone you can go shopping with. He tsks at himself, so much for that plan. Snapping from his thoughts once his horse stopped moving, he found himself in front of a familiar little shop.

A traveling doctor, going from small town to small town to help people.

You’re too good for him. His blue eyes linger over your open sign showing him you must still be in your little traveling cart. The cowboy can’t stop the small smile from appearing on his face, knowing you aren’t going to be very pleased with him getting into more trouble, especially after you told him just a week ago to take it easy.

Well, he supposes it has its upsides.

Hopping off his horse, he ties her reins to the post near your open sign before he picks up the sign and flips it to ‘closed’, and just walks right in with no knocking. He spots you on the other side of the cart back turned to the door, fiddling around with tools he doesn’t quite remember the names of.

“Sorry, just one moment please. Terribly sorry about that, how can I-“ you pause mid sentence as your eyes lock onto your favorite cowboy, taking in the bruises over his cheeks, some hidden just beneath his shirt, he looks like a mess.

Arthur grabs his hat, taking it off and placing it over his chest.

“Sorry darlin’, it seems I got a few new wounds. Care to treat me, doc?”

Like his words snapped you from your thoughts as you rushed to him, gently grabbing his arms and moving him to take a seat. Oh Arthur knows he should feel bad about worrying, and he’d hate to admit it, but he finds himself enjoying your fretting, how you rush around grabbing things to clean and patch him up.

“Oh my god, Arthur! How many times do I have to tell you to be careful? Heaven and stars above you’re lucky you haven’t gotten any infections.”

He hisses under his breath, feeling you press antibacterial cleaner to his cheek. But he never takes his eyes off you, taking in your focused expression as you easily patch up his cheek.

You go to scold him more after you’re finished placing the bandage on his cheek, just for him to grab your wrist, carefully pulling you closer until your face is mere inches from his. Your cheeks burn at how close he is, but you can’t help but lean into him. Your hands on his shoulders balancing yourself as your lips finally meet his chapped ones, his hands move placing one on your lower back, and the other on your hip holding you close to him.

you’re surrounded by him, his warmth, his scent, god how you’ve missed him. your mind muddled even as he pulls his lips off yours, resting his forehead to yours.

“Am I forgiven, Doc?”

you blink once, twice, then several more times as you collect yourself, finally moving away from him to properly stand.

“I…suppose, but that depends if you have any more injuries.” You give him a pointed look with your hands on your hips.

“Now, why would you think I got any more wounds?” He feigns ignorance, a playful grin on his face as he watches you narrow your eyes at him in a playful return.

“Cause this is you we are talking about, Mr.Morgan. The second I let you leave this cart, you’ll have a new injury from lord knows where.”

He raises his hands up in mock surrender before he moves around, making sure his bad shoulder was the one facing you, his back now towards you while he places his hat next to him and unbuttoning his shirt, just enough to free his shoulder to show you. You want to scold him more as you take in the new injury, looking at how bruised his flesh is around the gash.

“How the hell did you manage that?”

Arthur tenses for a moment only to relax under your gentle touch, leaning against the warmth of your hand.

“Dumbest way possible, surely.”

You chuckle at his words as you begin to ready to clean the area.

“Oh, and how's that?”

“Finished a bounty, nice reward out of it too I can treat you after this. But, on the way back to camp some crazy jumped from the tree line and spooked my horse, threw me right off and well…there was a well placed rock right there.”

He can’t even see your face but he can hear you biting back your laughter. Arthur rolls his eyes.

“Yeah yeah laugh it up, infamous gunslinger lost a fight to a rock.”

You finally can’t hold back your snickers, trying not to laugh too hard so you can see what you’re doing. Arthur grits his teeth, feeling your gloved hands brushing across the gash, listening to you hum.

“Well, luckily for you this cut isn’t too bad, you’re free from needing stitches, but I need you to tak it easy, it won’t heal right if you lift too much or go on crazy missions, alright?”

“Oh darlin’ you worry too much.”

“Arthur, I’m serious, you could risk infection and the area getting worse.” You get some gauze, wrapping it around his shoulder to make sure it’s secure, “You’ll need to come back everyday until it’s closed so I can monitor it, okay?”

Arthur looks back to you, his eyes meeting your worried filled ones, how did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve another chance at love? He didn’t know, but he knows he’s not going to let you slip away from him.

“Sweetheart, you know I’ll always come back to you, all that worryin’ ain’t good for ya.”

“I can’t help it, I love you too much, I alway worry about you.” You rest your head on his good shoulder, hands clinging to his shirt as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“I love you too, sugar, now come ‘ere, how much do I owe ya?” He swivels around to face you while he fixes up his shirt.

“Really? Something tells me you just like getting kisses.” You chuckle, a bashful smile crossing your lips.

He’s such a gentleman for an outlaw, and ever the giving lover, how did you get so lucky?

“If it helps you stop worryin’ I’ll give you as many as you need.”

Can you blame him though? His sweetheart is his doctor, a damn good one too, all patchin’ him up and fretting over him? He’s surprised you can’t hear his heart racing with what you do to him.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Don’t Forget, Baby

Marshall leaned against the doorway of your office, arms crossed, watching you with that familiar mix of amusement and frustration. You were so lost in your laptop screen, typing away, that you hadn’t even noticed him standing there.

“Yo,” he finally said, making you jump slightly.

Your fingers paused over the keyboard as you turned, eyes blinking up at him. “Jesus, Marshall. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know you’ve been sittin’ here all damn day without eatin’ or drinkin’ anything.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “I’ve been busy.”

He huffed, stepping inside the room and setting a cold Diet Coke on your desk with a clunk, followed by a protein bar and a small bag of chips.

“You’re always busy,” he muttered. “Too busy to remember basic human shit like eating.”

You sighed but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips as you grabbed the Diet Coke, popping it open with a satisfying fizz. “You’re dramatic.”

“Nah,” he shot back, perching on the edge of your desk. “I just know my wife. And my wife forgets to eat unless I put food right in front of her face.”

You took a sip of the soda, the cold carbonation hitting just right, before grabbing the protein bar and unwrapping it. “Happy now?”

Marshall smirked, clearly satisfied. “Makin’ progress.”

This wasn’t new. You’d always been the type to get caught up in whatever you were doing—working, reading, even scrolling on your phone—and completely forget to take care of yourself. And Marshall? He had taken it upon himself to make sure you didn’t just wither away.

You nudged his knee playfully. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably starve,” he teased, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You sighed dramatically. “Guess I’m lucky, then.”

“Damn right,” he muttered before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As he pulled back, you tilted your head at him. “Wait. When’s the last time you ate?”

Marshall blinked, then immediately looked away.

“Oh my God.” You sat up straighter. “You’re out here lecturing me, but you haven’t eaten either, have you?”

“Uh—”

“Marshall!”

“Look, this ain’t about me,” he deflected, standing up and heading toward the door. “I’m talkin’ about you, not me.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” you called after him, grabbing another snack from the bag he brought and following him into the kitchen.

Marshall sighed, rubbing his temples. “See? This is why I didn’t say shit.”

You shoved a granola bar into his hand, smirking. “Eat, Slim.”

He stared at it for a second before reluctantly tearing the wrapper open, mumbling, “You’re a pain in my ass.”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “And yet, you keep me around.”

He shook his head with a small chuckle, taking a bite. “Yeah… and I always will.”

[seokminfilm]

longing to long for him ♫ lee seokmin

♫ pairing, lee seokmin x reader ♫ warnings, non-idol au, ceo au, husband seokmin, reader and seokmin have a baby girl, angst, hurt/no comfort, one allusion to being nude ♫ synopsis, you hate the feeling of being so close yet so far away.

♫ author's note, trying out a new layout! let me know your thoughts on it 🤍 been listening to same dream, same night, same mind by svt and suddenly had this urge to write something angsty with seokmin so here you go!! hurt no comfort too?? am i going insane?? (yes)

♫ now playing, same dream, same night, same mind, seventeen

♫ word count, 1.8k | for @kstrucknet

"welcome home, seokmin." your voice feels empty as you speak, but you bypass it, allowing your husband to bring you into his chest for a equally-empty hug.

being married to lee seokmin came with its ups and downs.

as the hardworking ceo of his own corporation, passed down to him by his grandfather, he always had a full, busy schedule. when seokmin wasn't busy in his office at home, he was on the road, driving from one meeting to another from sunrise to sunset.

as the youngest couple in the midst of seokmin's business partner circle, you were used to the so-called "advice" the older, married ladies would share with you at company dinner parties, as if it made the reality of your situation any better.

"there's no more time for love or play, now that mr. lee is climbing the ranks. you might as well get used to loveless nights, overdramatic reactions, and distant conversations. it happens to the best of us." one lady had said while stroking your back as if you were a miserable cat, and your skin boiled with anger, hoping that the lady would just drop dead.

the night you and seokmin had said "i do", he had laid down in your untouched hotel bed beside you, face and body still warm from the wedding's festivities. the sparkles in his eyes still haunt your memory to this day, and you could remember his sentence word for word, the feeling of his soft hand on your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

"no matter what happens from now until eternity, you'll always be on my mind."

that sentence was simple, but complex enough to make you teary eyed as seokmin hugged you, body engulfing yours as the sheets seemed to protect you from the harsh cold─the harsh cold being life without lee seokmin in it.

now, all you could feel was that cold.

"how's mihan?" seokmin's voice was tired, layers of disappointments and annoyance seeping into his words. his eyes were tired too, gaze harsh as he stripped himself of his shoes.

his styled hair was still flawless from this morning, and the sharp point of his nose was highlighted by the light shining down on him as he looked at his sleeping baby girl in your arms. she had your eyes and his nose, resting peacefully in her swaddle as you sighed, giving a small smile if only for her.

"she's doing okay. she's been sleeping all day." you say, and seokmin nods, sighing as he leans against the countertop. he stares up at the light, eyes unflinching as he shuts them tightly seconds later. the sigh that leaves his lips is felt, and your heart falls a little bit more, watching him bypass you without another word and disappear into your shared bedroom.

it hurts to see him leave without another kiss or tight hug like he used to do. as much as you wanted to ignore the warnings given to you in the early stage of your marriage, they were like bright stage lights, illuminating the things even you wanted to deny.

love used to be such an integral part of you and seokmin's marriage, and now, no matter how hard you looked or tried to pretend, you couldn't see it anymore. you couldn't remember the last time you or seokmin had said the phrase 'i love you' without sounding tired or empty, and it made your heart ache.

tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you walked to your bedroom, and mihan stirred in your arms, lips turning into a small smile as her tiny fingers clung to your shirt─the faded smiski tee seokmin had let you have the first time you had come home with him.

even he didn't recognize the shirt now. that, or he just didn't care anymore.

sitting on the bed after putting mihan to bed in her crib just a few steps away from you, you wipe the now freely falling tears from your eyes, wedding ring glinting on your finger as you chew at your lip, falling silent as the shower turns off in the bathroom.

soft piano lullabies play from your phone to calm down both you and mihan, and you sigh, turning away from the door as it opens to reveal seokmin's fresh face and toned figure, sweatpants thrown on around his waist as he scrubs his face dry.

your eyes meet for a second, taking each other in, and for a moment, it feels like old times again─the shyness you feel rising up in your body is just like when you saw seokmin nude for the first time, and it makes you turn away again, holding back fresh tears.

seokmin cleans up his mess, throwing his suit in the clothes hamper as he combs his fingers through his wet hair. his dark brown eyes seem to have more shadow under them, and he slowly makes his way to the bedside, crashing onto the sheets without a second thought.

silence goes through the room like a blaring siren, suffocating in nature as you look over to your husband. he's already fighting sleep, letting the silence and drip of the showerhead lull him to dreamland. his face is relaxed now, eyes half-lidded as he meets your gaze.

something lingers behind his eyes, but you don't know what, and before you can work up the courage to speak, he falls asleep, leaving you to long for him even more.

how long would you be longing to have lee seokmin back?

[cheynovak]

Never Alone

Beau and Y/N have been friends since he moved to town. He liked her more than he admitted. And when she didn't answer her phone after he learned she lost a loved one, he got worried.

A small one shot story for my dear friend @jackles010378 just know that I'm here for you. 🤍

The knock at the back door was firm but hesitant, just like him. I barely registered it, my mind too clouded by grief, my body too heavy to move. The warmth of the fireplace flickered across my tear-streaked face, but I still felt so cold.

I didn't hear the door open, but I felt him before I saw him. The familiar scent of leather and cedar surrounded me as soft footfalls brought him closer.

"Aw, sweetheart," Beau murmured, his deep voice tinged with concern.

I couldn't look at him. My throat burned from crying, my chest tight with the weight of loss. But I didn't resist when he crouched beside me, his strong arms wrapping around me without hesitation.

I clung to his shirt like a lifeline, gripping the fabric with shaking fingers as he held me close. His body was warm, solid—safe. He smelled like the outside air, his cologne lingering beneath the scent of fresh coffee.

"Should've called me, Y/N," he said, his voice low, regretful. "Hate seein’ you like this."

I couldn't answer, just buried my face into his chest, fresh tears soaking into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His jacket was gone now, tossed aside so he could pull me in tighter.

His hand moved up and down my back in slow, steady strokes, grounding me. Every now and then, he pressed a kiss to my hair, murmuring something I couldn't quite make out—but it didn't matter. It was the comfort I needed, the silent promise that I wasn't alone.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours—I wasn't sure. But with each quiet moment, my breathing slowed, the shattering pain inside me dulling just enough.

Beau shifted slightly. "Sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. I didn’t lift my head, just kept staring at his chest, my vision blurred with fresh tears.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His knuckles skimmed my cheek, his fingers lingering just long enough to make me shiver. Then, his thumb moved, wiping away the tear that had slipped down my skin.

I finally looked up at him. His green eyes, usually so bright with mischief or that easy charm of his, were dark, serious. Searching. He was looking at me like I was something fragile, something he wanted to fix but didn’t know how.

For a second—just a second—I swore he leaned in. His breath was warm against my face, his lips parting just slightly. My heart stuttered, caught between grief and something else entirely.

Then, just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone. Beau pulled back, clearing his throat, and reached behind him. The scent of something warm and familiar hit my nose.

"Figured you wouldn't eat," he said softly. "Brought your favorite."

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, his green eyes filled with something I couldn't quite name. Worry? Affection? Something deeper?

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Beau."

His lips quirked in that soft half-smile he always gave me, but his eyes stayed serious. "Always, sweetheart."

And in that moment, with the fire crackling beside us and his arms still around me, I knew he meant it.

The silence between us wasn’t heavy—it was comforting. Beau sat beside me, his hand rubbing slow circles on my back as I forced myself to take small bites of the food he’d brought. I wasn’t hungry, not really, but I knew he wouldn’t leave until he saw me eat something.

He didn’t rush me, didn’t say a word. Just stayed close, letting me lean into his warmth.

I glanced at the clock. It was late. The kind of late that made the world feel quieter, softer. I hesitated before looking up at him, knowing I shouldn’t ask, but the words slipped out anyway.

"Beau, can you stay?"

He turned to me, his green eyes unreadable for a moment. Then, that slow, soft smile spread across his face, the one that always made my chest tighten.

"‘Course, darlin’," he murmured, his Texan drawl softer than usual. Then he pulled me in, wrapping me up in his warmth, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of my head.

And just like that, I melted.

I let myself sink into him, resting against his chest as his hand resumed its steady, soothing motions on my back. His heartbeat was strong, steady—a quiet reassurance that I wasn’t alone.

I closed my eyes, breathing him in. Knowing hum being here, with me was all I needed to get through this.

--

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[linoxpudding]

Morning Cuddles - Seo Changbin

*gif credit goes to owner*

summary: sunday morning at seo household, changbin is whipped for his girls

pairing: seo changbin x reader

genre: fluff, domestic, married couple

word count: 624 words

a/n: this writing was inspired by this request ♡ changbin is so husband *sighs dreamily*

-

morning cuddles series:

Chan Lee Know Hyunjin Jisung Felix Seungmin I.N

Masterlist

~°~

It’s one of those slow, perfect Sundays—the kind where there’s no rush to be anywhere, no alarms, just the peaceful comfort of being home.

You wake up to soft babbling sounds, the sweetest melody to your ears. Blinking the sleep away, you turn over to see your baby girl sitting up between you and Changbin, her tiny hands patting her daddy’s cheek repeatedly in an attempt to wake him.

“Dada,” she says in her sleepy little voice, pressing her chubby fingers into his face. “Dada, up.”

You chuckle, gently brushing a hand through her soft hair. “I don’t think Daddy’s ready to wake up yet, sweetheart.”

Changbin, however, cracks one eye open, groaning dramatically. “Dada is very tired,” he mumbles, reaching out to blindly pull both you and your daughter into his arms. “Dada needs five more minutes…”

Your daughter, however, has other plans. She wiggles her way onto his chest, squealing as she bounces a little. “Noooo, up!”

Changbin finally gives in, opening both eyes and smiling lazily. “Aish, how can I say no to my little princess?” He scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her chubby cheeks, making her giggle uncontrollably.

You watch them with pure adoration, propping yourself up on one elbow. “She’s got you wrapped around her tiny little finger, you know that?”

Changbin grins at you, reaching out to pull you closer. “Of course. Just like her mama does.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours.

The three of you stay tangled in each other’s warmth, your daughter now snuggled between you, sucking on her tiny fingers as she slowly drifts back to sleep. Changbin gently rubs her back, his voice a quiet whisper. “She’s perfect.”

Changbin’s hand moves from your daughter to yours, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek before intertwining with yours. His grip is firm but gentle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand.

“You know…” he begins quietly, his voice thick with emotion, “I don’t think I say it enough, but… thank you.”

You blink at him, tilting your head slightly. “For what?”

His fingers tighten around yours just a little as he looks at you with nothing but pure adoration. “For being the mother of my child. For giving me our little girl. For… everything.”

Your heart swells at his words, warmth spreading through your chest like a soft embrace. You squeeze his hand back, your own eyes growing a little misty. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Binnie.”

“I do,” he insists gently, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to press a lingering kiss against your knuckles. “You’re amazing. She’s lucky to have you as her mom. And I’m lucky to have you as my wife.”

Tears threaten to prick at your eyes, but before you can say anything, your daughter's small fingers reach for your joined hands, clumsily placing her own on top as if she wants to be included.

Changbin chuckles softly. “See? She agrees.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips before placing another on your daughter’s forehead. “I love you both so much,” you whisper, voice full of emotion.

Changbin tugs you in closer, wrapping an arm around you both as he buries his face into your hair. “And we love you,” he murmurs. “So, so much.”

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’re pretty lucky, huh?”

He hums in agreement, wrapping his arms around both of you protectively. “More than lucky. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

The three of you stay like that—tangled together, hands intertwined, hearts beating as one. And in that moment, you know: This is happiness. This is home.